Choir Stories
by Matilda384
Summary: From mischief to growing up, from struggle to relief, from class to choir, the boys did everything together. And as they say, boys will be boys. Just some random stories about the choirboys when they were in their school in England. It's mostly fun stuff with some continuing plots throughout. I hope you like it!
1. New Boy

**Just a note; none of these stories have any particular order. They're all just randomized. I don't own any of the characters in the Lord of the Flies.**

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Simon sat down at the lunch table with all the other choirboys. He opened his brown paper bag and took out his peanut-butter and jelly sandwich. The others boys were all chattering away in the noisy lunchroom. A very small, quiet boy crept up and sat at the end of the table, a few seats away from everybody else. The table fell silent. Robert pointed at the boy and whispered something to Maurice. The two giggled. Bill broke the silence with his loud voice. "What are _you_ doing here? This table is for choirboys only." The small boy didn't look up, but he shifted a little on his chair. "If you don't leave our table," Bill continued, "I'll come over and throw you away from here!" Maurice and Robert chuckled again, whispering to the other boys on either side of them, who joined in the laughter. Bill glanced at them. "Why are you all laughing?" he asked. Robert leaned in. "That kid's insane. He probably can't hear you because he's got too many voices talking inside his own head!" Robert explained, bursting into laughter with the others.

The small boy stared at the table. "I can hear you," he said softly. Simon looked at him for a moment. The others didn't catch what he'd said because they were still roaring with laughter. Some teased and mocked him loudly, making him blush a little with embarrassment. Finally, Jack looked up from his lunch and quieted them all down. "Shut up, all of you. He's new. He just joined the choir about a week ago. Today will be his first day singing with us. Let him alone." the redhead ordered. Everyone obeyed and went back to their normal conversations. Simon looked at the small boy for a moment. He noticed the absence of a brown paper bag in front of the new kid. The boy still hadn't looked up from the table.

Simon slid down the bench a little until he was sitting directly across from the little stranger. "Hi," he said quietly. "My name is Simon. What's yours?" The boy moved his eyes up from the tabletop and looked at Simon. Simon noticed how they boy's mahogany-colored hair formed a thin curtain over his forehead, and that his eyes had big dark circles underneath them. He seemed to think for a moment. "Roger," he finally murmured. Simon gave him a smile. "I think you'll enjoy choir. It's a lot of work but it's so rewarding to work in a group and feel all the teamwork creating something so beautiful to the ear. What made you join?" Simon asked. Roger paused before answering this as well. He looked down. "Don't want to go home after school," he said softly. Simon concentrated on the boy, and could almost sense that something was wrong inside of him. He was struggling. Externally, he had a nervous tic that caused his eyes to blink hard every once in a while. It wasn't that Simon had another sense or any kind of powers-he could pick up on other people's emotions quickly and had a good heart to make them feel better.

Simon took a bite of his sandwich so that he'd have a moment to think things over-it would be rude to talk with his mouth full. He swallowed, and then put the rest of his sandwich down. "Do you have a lunch?" he asked. Roger shook his head. Simon opened up his lunch bag and pulled out an apple and a bag of cookies. Roger watched him closely. Simon pushed the apple carefully across the table and held it towards his new friend. He gave a smile and a nod. Roger extended his hand and wrapped his bony fingers around the fruit slowly. Simon put the bag of cookies between them. "We'll share these too," he said. Roger took a bite out of the apple, chewed, and then swallowed. "Thank you," he said. Simon just gave a smile. He liked the new choirboy. He knew he wanted to be his friend to give him some comfort-Simon knew well that the other boys weren't going to give Roger an easy time, considering they'd openly humiliated him without even welcoming him to the group. He decided from that moment on, he'd be a good friend to the strange quiet boy that was trying something new all by himself.


	2. Copy-Cat

Chapter 2

Jack sat in his chemistry class, diligently balancing the equation that was displayed upon the chalkboard. He turned the page of his notebook. Maurice sat beside him, but was by no means working as hard or concentrating on the academics as Jack was. He'd taken up the pastime of crumpling up small bits of paper and flicking them at the boy that sat in the desk in front of them; Roger. Maurice hit Roger in the ear. Jack saw Roger take a deep sigh-he was obviously getting annoyed. Bill tapped on the head boy's shoulder when the teacher turned towards the chalkboard. Jack, still writing, leaned back to allow Bill to whisper something to him. "Merridew," Bill said. "Can I copy your work?" Jack whirled around, upset by the fact that this was the fourth time that week that Bill had asked the same question. "For the last time, and take note of this, I will not let you copy my bloody work, Bill!" he whispered back harshly. Bill reached across his desk pleadingly. "Oh, come on, Merridew! She's going to check it and I don't have a single thing written down! I can't fail this class!"

"I could care less if you pass the class or not. I'm doing the work, you do your own."

"_Please_ Merridew!"

The teacher began walking around the classroom to check the students' progress. Jack turned back. "Ask someone else." he replied shortly. Bill let out an aggravated sigh and leaned to the boy beside him, begging the same question. Jack finished the equation. When the teacher approached him, he pushed his notebook forward, eager to see her reaction towards his impressive intelligence. She smiled. "Very well done, Jack." she commented. Jack grinned proudly. Suddenly there came a very loud thud from beside him. Maurice sat with a dumbfounded expression as a flying notebook hit him square in the face. The teacher whirled around. Roger was facing Maurice now, glaring at him hard with his cold eyes. He'd obviously gotten fed up with the paper flicking, and had taken revenge into his own creepy hands. The teacher looked back and forth between the two boys in silence. After a long while, Roger swiftly turned around in his seat and continued reading a book. Maurice gaped. "He threw a book at me!" he whispered in shock. Jack put a hand to his forehead, making a mental note to speak to Maurice and punish Roger after class.

By the time the teacher had gotten to Bill, he had copied someone else's work and received praise for his "job well done". He smiled sweetly. When the teacher turned her back, he raised an eyebrow and smirked at Jack. Jack rolled his eyes. "Next time you'll get yours," he threatened. Bill just laughed as usual. The bell rang, signaling all the boys to pack their things and go to their next class. Maurice still sat in shock. Jack tapped his shoulder as he readied to leave the classroom. "I will speak to you out in the hall whenever you decide to man up and get off your seat." he harshly scolded, embarrassed by the fact that two of his esteemed choirboys had caused such a scene in the middle of class. Maurice blinked. "He threw a book at me!" he whispered yet again.

Just before Jack left, he saw Roger approach his desk. Jack stood still. "I suppose you're coming to receive your penalty?" he asked with his head held high. But Roger wasn't looking at Jack. He was staring hard at Maurice. Still. He bent down, picked up the tossed notebook, put it under his arm, growled, and then walked out of the classroom in silence. Maurice didn't move. Jack rolled his eyes and nudged his arm. "Very well. Both of you will get your talking-tos in choir this afternoon. Bear that in mind as you go about your day, hear me?" Jack commanded. Maurice nodded slowly. Jack put the cap on his head and walked briskly out of the classroom. _They're nothing but children; all of them, _he thought. As he gracefully flew down the hallway, he saw Bill fervently transferring Henry's math homework answers to his own sheet of paper outside the classroom door.


	3. The Nativity

**I don't really know why I wrote this. It just came to me. Sorry if it seems strange or rushed-I just thought that maybe something like this would be interesting to read.**

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Jack clapped his hands together repeatedly to get the chatting choir to be silent and listen to him. It was the very beginning of their daily rehearsal. "Boys, boys!" he called, winning their attention. They hushed each other until the room fell silent. "Good afternoon," Jack greeted. "I just got a request from the headmaster of this school that deals with just us exclusively." The boys ooh-ed and ah-ed for a brief moment. "He asked if we would put on a production of the First Christmas for the teachers and for our parents. You know, the Nativity story." After only a few seconds of quiet, Maurice jokingly called out, "What's that?"

"The Nativity-the birth of Jesus. How long have you been in Catholic school, you twit?" Jack fired back, winning laughter from his audience. "Anyway, we must begin preparing straight away. We only have a week or so before school lets out for the holidays, which means we have less time to actually rehearse."

Robert raised his hand to speak. Jack called upon him. "What kind of songs will we be learning?" he asked. Jack nodded. "I'm glad you asked. We'll be doing mostly traditional Christmas carols. You know, like Silent Night, O Holy Night, Joy to the World, We Three Kings, etc." he replied. Maurice raised his hand and was called upon next. "You mean no Jingle Bells?" he laughed, causing everyone to chuckle. Jack furrowed his brow. "Another crack from you Maurice and I'll have you punished." he snapped. Maurice was _always_ the jokester of the choir. He lightened the mood, but also at times he pushed Jack to his limits.

Jack took out a piece of paper and a pen and stood at the podium. "We'll begin by determining who gets what parts." he said. "Alright, Maurice. Since you always seem to know exactly when to clown around, I'll give you a taste of your own medicine. You'll be Mary." Jack said with authority. Everyone-including Maurice-burst into rolling laughter. "Settle down, settle down!" Jack commanded. "Next, we'll cast Robert as Joseph. Harold, William, and Charles will be the three kings. That leaves Roger and Bill as the shepherds. Henry, Tim, and Michael, you'll be the sheep. Richard is the cow and Rupert is the horse. Is there anyone I didn't assign a role to?" Jack looked up. Simon raised his hand slowly. "Ah, yes. I almost forgot. Simon, you'll be the Angel Gabriel." Simon gave him a nod and a gentle smile. Jack clapped his hands together once. "Alright, then. That went smoothly. Let's begin work on our first piece." he ordered.

A week later, it was the day of the performance. Jack was in rare form all day as he usually was right before a concert. After regular classes ended, the choir met in the music room per usual, but today they were all excited-they were about to get their costumes distributed to them. Jack was already getting a splitting headache. The constant chatter of boys and the technicality of adding costumes into the already stressful equation was not helping one bit. He stood before big cardboard boxes of various pieces of clothing. He felt someone slide beside him and touch his forearm gently. He looked over. Roger was standing there, looking at his shoes. "I'll help," he said quickly. Jack nodded. He had taken a liking to the smallest alto; the boy was quiet, obedient, loyal, and disciplined. His presence and willingness to help only relieved Jack even more.

The pair distributed the costumes and everyone dressed up. Maurice was literally running around, holding up the hem of his "skirt" with a pillow stuffed under his dress, all the while yelling in a high-pitched voice about being a 'pretty lady'. The Three Kings decided against wearing the artificial beards. To prove it to everyone, they threw them to the ground and left them there. Roger helped Simon don the rather large angel wings that were far too big for his small body. Jack brought them all to attention. "Boys! Here's the schedule for today: first, we'll have our dress rehearsal until four. No later. I want everyone to save their voices. Then, we'll do our usual nap until five. We'll get dressed and warm up so the performance will begin at six. Does everyone understand?" he asked. Everyone agreed to it. They went into the church (where the production was being held) to rehearse.

Upon entering the church, each boy fell silent in reverence. Simon knelt before the altar with his head bowed and hands folded in prayer, and stayed that way for a long time. Jack let him be. He had all the other boys sit in a pew and pray or at least sit there and shut up. Simon finished his silent prayer, blessed himself, and returned to the choir. "Sorry," he whispered. "I always pray as soon as I get into a church." Jack patted his shoulder. "It's alright." he replied shortly. Immediately, practiced commenced. Maurice calmed himself down enough to actual behave properly. He was a decent Mary, despite the fact that when it was "time to have the Son of God" he laughed uncontrollably as he took the pillow out from under the costume and put a doll in the manger.

Simon was a very good Gabriel. Not only did he look the part, but he played it with meaning and respect. Jack was pleased with his work-it was all going so well. That is, until the shepherds came onto the set. Henry looked upset about something as he crouched in sheep position. "Poke me with that thing one more time and I swear I'll bash your head open…" Jack heard him mutter. He drew his attention to that side of the manger as the choir as a whole was singing "Angels We Have Heard on High". Everything seemed alright. Suddenly Henry sprang up and pounced on the shepherd behind him, throwing his fists and kicking and shouting. Jack jumped up. Bill was pulling Henry away, so Jack went to protect the shepherd that was under attack. "Are you insane?!" Jack hollered at Henry once the two were split up. Henry pointed at the boy on the ground. "He kept poking me with his shepherd's cane! I told him to stop and he wouldn't! He just told me to play dead!" Henry cried breathlessly. Jack looked down. Roger was lying on the ground motionless. He had blood pouring out of his nose. Simon rushed over and cradled the bloody boy's head on his lap, pinching the bridge of his nose to stop the bloodflow. He knew all too well what unconsciousness was liked. Injuries following it always made it worse. Some other boys leaned in. "Is he breathing?" Tim asked quietly.

"I think he's dead." Robert declared.

"What a baby!" Charles cried out.

"Can't take a hit!" Harold laughed.

"Jackie! Jackie! Help me! I can't stand up! I feel faint, Jackie! Blame it on Henry! Oh, I'm so weak!" Maurice acted out Roger's fall mockingly. He was always the one to start the teasing towards him, especially since he knew how Roger and Jack were close. Everyone laughed tremendously. Simon put a finger to his lips. "Please," he begged softly. "He needs quiet,"

Jack fanned Roger's face with his music score. He was beginning to panic. What if the shepherd didn't wake up? Who'd play the part? Roger began to stir, blinking hard as his vision came into focus. Jack breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank God," he whispered. Simon held Roger's head still even as he woke. The others were still laughing and teasing the fainted boy as well as the one caring for him so tenderly. Jack waited as Roger began to come back to the world, asking him questions to be sure he was still right in the head. He placed a spare tissue against Roger's nose and had him sit down for awhile.

After the rehearsal, Jack scolded Henry for acting out so severely and the rest of the boys for joking about a serious matter. Henry shrugged. "I didn't hit him _that_ hard!" he argued. Jack put a finger up. "I don't care. That's no way to act towards a fellow choirboy and certainly no way to behave in a church!" Jack finished his scolding with a threat to have Henry removed from the choir. "We would be fine with one less soprano." he warned. Henry promised never to do it again.

Back in the music room, the boys took off their costumes and began placing the spare blankets around on the floor. They were used to this-Jack would always make them stay after school until the concert on performance days, but one full hour was dedicated to an energizing nap so they'd perform their best. Jack carried Roger back in from the church and Simon had a blanket set up for him immediately. Roger was strangely weak. They made sure he was settled comfortably. Jack stayed beside him as the room quieted down. "You sure you're alright?" he whispered. Roger, still confused as to why someone cared so much, simply nodded. "You're not one to faint, Roge. What happened back there? Besides getting hit in the face." Jack inquired. Roger just shrugged. He didn't want to go into detail. "Felt lightheaded during practice. I think I forgot to eat breakfast. The punch just threw me off I guess." he answered as quickly as possible. He decided to leave out the part about getting a beating at home that very morning and losing a lot of blood then too. Jack raised an eyebrow. "Is that the whole truth?" he asked. Roger shrugged.

"Most of it,"

"Why'd Henry hit you?"

"I was poking at him with the stick. He got all bothered by it for some reason and started fidgeting. I told him to play dead but he said he wouldn't yet I wanted him to play dead so I kept poking him to get him to fall over. Then he just flipped on me." Roger explained.

Jack tried to follow his friend's thought process as always. But Roger didn't really seem to ever have a thought process. More like, as things came to him, he just said them right then and there. Jack patted the boy's shoulder. "I did talk to him about the incident, and he said he'd never do it again. Just try not to tell people to act dead. It freaks them out. But nevertheless, feel better. Get some sleep." he replied.

Jack stood in the center of the room and looked at his choir. They were all sleeping in their uniform shirts and underwear, buried under blankets as they dozed. It was very quiet. Jack smiled a bit. He always liked this part of a concert day-everyone was at peace for once. He sat down and began reviewing the music so the production would be perfect.

And perfect it was. Roger cleaned up and behaved himself. Maurice didn't joke or laugh during the performance. Simon played a wonderful angel. All three kings made their entrances on time, and not a single sheep 'played dead'. The parents of the boys, as well as the headmaster, gave a standing ovation at the end of the production. Jack considered this performance a thrilling success. He smiled proudly as he stood in front of everyone and held his arms out to recognize the group as a whole as applause rang throughout the church. The headmaster came forward and shook his hand, thanking every member for the experience. They all beamed and ended up hugging Jack as a way of thanking him for making them so pleasing to their elders.


	4. Ketchup

**I just wanted to do something purely fun for these guys. This may be kinda silly but oh well. I hope you like it and that all of these little stories hold your interests. If you have any suggestions for stories, ****_please_**** tell them to me-you've got the conch. ;)**

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It was English class on a Friday morning, with a substitute. Enough said. Several of the choirboys were all in that same class and things were getting interesting quickly. The substitute basically sat behind the teacher's desk and read a book, occasionally telling the boys to quiet down. Other than that, she didn't do much. Simon had curled up snugly in his desk with the book he was reading. Henry was deeply engaged in a game of tic-tac-toe with Robert and appeared to be profusely cheating without getting caught. Roger had slipped over to a corner of the room and sat on the floor just below a window, drawing fervently in his sketchbook. Bill and Maurice were attempting a game of hangman but couldn't stop laughing long enough at some of the words to actually play the game continuously, without giving up on some words while trying to catch their breath.

Maurice drew out six lines. "Alright, guess a letter." he said with a wide grin. Bill shrugged. "A!" he replied. Maurice giggled and shook his head, drawing a circle. Bill thought. "Q!" he exclaimed. Maurice burst into laughter. "Are you stupid?! You really guessed _that_ letter as your second choice?!"

"Alright fine then! P!"

"There's one,"

"E?"

"There's an e,"

"B!"

"No B's. Now the man has a head, a spine, and an arm."

"Ugh! Let's try…a C?"

"Yes, there's a C too."

"Then how come you only wrote down one?"

"Because there is only one,"

"You said there were two C's!"

"I said there was a C _too_, as in there's a C _as well_!"

"Oh,"

"Nope, no O's."

"That doesn't count!"

"Yes it does! You said it!"

"I hate playing this game with you. Aha! The letter U!"

"One U,"

"What do the letters spell out so far?"

"blank - E - C - blank - U - P,"

"I'm so lost."

"Just guess already!"

"D?"

"No,"

"F,"

"F for failure. No."

"K!"

"One K. I'll just remind you that there's only one letter left, and if you miss it then this man's getting sent to the Davy Jones' Locker."

"Already?!"

"Lookie here-a head, a spine, two legs, and two arms. Next is the noose."

"We can't play until he has a face too?"

"Oh right, Bill. Then you'll want to give him fingers and toes and clothing and shoes and we'll be here for an eternity, go through the alphabet a gazillion times, and you still won't solve the puzzle."

"Ok fine. I'll just guess my last letter then."

Bill thought long and hard at the puzzle before him. He was missing the middle letter. So far, he had K - E - C- blank - U - P spelled out on the paper before him. And a stick figure with its life on the line. He began to be nervous, thinking long and hard about the final letter. Maurice tapped his pencil impatiently, quietly humming a funeral tune and drawing out a tombstone beside the gallows. Bill put his hands on his head. "Alright! Alright! I don't know! I seriously have no idea! He's just going to have to die, right there on the spot!" he cried out in panic.

Everyone had turned their attention to Bill now. Maurice leaned in. "Alright, you've now attracted the looks creepster over there in the corner usually gets. Just pick a letter. It's not that hard." he whispered. Bill slammed his hands down on the desk. "N! N! N! N!" he cried. Maurice burst into more unending laughter. "Seriously? An _N_?! You're so stupid, Bill! It's an H! The word is K - E - C - _H_ - U - P! Ketchup! The stuff you put on fries!" Maurice snorted in laughter. Bill paled and looked mortified as the noose went around the stick figure's neck and Maurice began saying a eulogy. Simon adjusted himself in his desk. He pulled on Bill's sleeve. "That's not right," he said timidly. Maurice halted his outburst. "What do you mean by that, Batty?" he snapped. 'Batty' was Simon's nickname sometimes between the choirboys because of his frequent fainting spells. Simon cast his eyes down. "The word you're trying to spell has a T in it." he explained carefully. "K - E -T - C - H -U -P. The T goes between the E and the C."

Both Maurice and Bill stared at the 'gameboard' in disbelief. The jokester did not want to be proven wrong. "Henry! Does the word 'ketchup' have a T in it?" Maurice called across the room. Henry shrugged. "How should I know?" he yelled back. "Roge, is there a T in the word 'ketchup'?" Maurice tried again, but was only answered with a cold stare from dark eyes. "Robert! Is there-"  
"Shut up! We've all heard you three times!" Robert replied grumpily. Maurice blushed, but it faded quickly. "Miss substitute?! Does the wo-"  
"Yes it does!" she angrily hollered. Maurice gave her a weak thumbs-up. "Thank you," he said meekly with embarrassment.

Bill immediately started laughing and rubbing it in his friend's face. "Who's the stupid one now! You are! And you just proved how thick your skull is in front of the whole class!" Bill taunted. Maurice tore the paper up, blushing madly, and took another out of his notebook. "Fine. We'll just try an easier word." he muttered.


	5. Roger Mourns

**I just want to say thank you to IcyKaku55 for their suggestions! This was one of them. They wanted me to go into more detail about Roger, so this chapter is devoted to the little sociopath entirely. I'm sorry it's so long-I just wanted it to be full and detailed. Warning: it is kinda sad though. I hope you like it. Please feel free to give me any suggestions or things you want to see happen! I appreciate it so much. And thanks for the reviews too!**

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Everything was going perfectly normal-it was a regular choir rehearsal. All of the boys were standing in their singing formation, except for Simon who got special permission from Jack to sit down for the practice after just having another fainting spell. All usual stuff. Jack stood in front of them all, keeping the beat with his hands. He ended one song. "Over all it was a job well done, boys. Altos, you might need to work on measures six through ten-all those eighth notes. It sounds a little rushed." he ordered. Jack turned the page to the next song, "Kyrie Eleison". He gave the choir a measure of beats before cuing them to sing.

The song was going normal. Everything was normal. Until Roger rubbed his eyes. He was in the front row, splitting center with Simon. Simon was the shortest soprano, Roger was the shortest alto. He was very noticeable in such placement. Jack caught him. "Hands at you sides!" he snapped over the singing. Roger straightened his arms and stood still. But after only a few moments, he dipped his head down and wouldn't look up. "Face forward and focus!" Jack yelled, causing all the other boys to do so except for the one that needed to. "_Roger!_" he hissed. But Roger wouldn't look up. He began rubbing his eyes again. Jack waved his arms to get the whole choir to stop. They immediately silenced and looked around to see who was upsetting Jack so much.

When Roger was standing there, head down, rubbing his eyes, Maurice snorted and called out, "Oh, it's just creepster." Everyone giggled a bit. Simon looked up from his chair. He put a hand over his mouth when Roger took a deep shaky breath in. Simon gasped and stood up to face his friend. "He's crying…" he said quietly. Jack heard. "Roger, care to tell the whole choir why you interrupted us with your crying?" he said impatiently. Someone from the back row called out "Crybaby!" and instantly the whole room broke out in laughter and shouts.

"What a little girl!"

"What's the matter Roger? Did your parents forget to pick you up from rehearsal again like last week? Are you going to be sitting on the steps alone until dinnertime?"

"Aw! He's turning red!"

"Look at the wimp!"

Simon put his hands on Roger's shoulder to comfort him. But Roger rocked the boat on the normal day. He whirled around and threw his book of music at the tormentors behind him. When the laughing didn't cease, he picked up Simon's chair and threw it across the room-right past Jack. He breathed heavily for a moment, then gripped his hair in both hands and pulled as hard as he could, still gasping and crying silently. He sank slowly onto the floor. Everyone had stopped making sound now. They were scared. Roger curled up on the ground and hid his face. He sniffled and sobbed while mumbling something. Simon knelt down to listen, glancing at Jack for a sense of security. Jack stood still, afraid to even move. Roger cried heavily now. "Kyrie Eleison…Lord have Mercy…please forgive me. Kyrie Eleison…Lord have Mercy…please forgive me. Kyrie Eleison…Lord have Mercy…please forgive me…" he sobbed over and over again.

Jack summoned his bravery and knelt beside the bundle of tears and insanity. "What do you mean, Roger? What are you saying?" he commanded. Roger didn't answer him. He just kept repeating the same three phrases over and over. "Roger, stop acting like this!" Jack said with authority. Still no answer. He grabbed the small boy by the shoulder and sat him up forcefully. Instantly, Roger smacked the head boy right across the face.

Everyone was stunned.

Roger stared at Jack for a moment in shock, which Jack reciprocated. Jack then reclaimed his leadership position. He grabbed the front of Roger's shirt. "Don't you _ever_ hit me-" but Simon stopped him. Roger looked absolutely terrified. He put a small hand over his mouth and looked away. "I…should go…" he breathed. Roger stood up and allowed for Simon to steady him. He staggered out of the music room sobbing.

It wasn't until the next morning that a teacher informed Jack of what was really happening to Roger. She told Jack that Roger's older brother was very sick and had died that previous morning. She said that his brother was the only thing he really had. Jack knew he had to somehow fix what he'd done to Roger. That day at choir practice, Roger didn't show up. He hadn't even gone to school. Jack told the choir about what was happening and suggested that they all go to the funeral as a group so Roger could see that he had friends that cared about him. No one wanted to go, but Jack hung his authority over their heads, threatening to expel them from choir if they didn't attend.

X x X

Simon stood waiting under a large tree, far from the other mourners. He was waiting for the rest of the choirboys to show up-he would admit that he did arrive pretty early. Bill was making his way toward the large oak tree, so Simon waved his arm to catch his attention. Bill ran the rest of the way. "Hi," Simon greeted, and Bill returned it. He eyed the smaller boy for a moment. "Your silver cross isn't quite straight. Let me re-pin it for you." he observed. Simon held the black cloak he was wearing out towards Bill, thanking him for noticing the slight imperfection.

Several other boys arrived, all congregating under the same oak tree. It was when Jack arrived that they all became a little more comfortable. "Merridew," Henry whined. "What are we doing here at a funeral?"

"We're here because one of our friends is suffering a tremendous loss and needs his fellow choirboys to help lift his spirits." Jack replied, clearly well-rehearsed.

"But it's Saturday,"

"So what?"

"There's a million other things we could be doing besides sitting at some stuffy funeral. Especially for creepster."

"Now, Henry, be respectful. Everyone keep their wise cracks and comments to themselves. This is very serious. And be kind to Roger too-he's hurting very badly."

Jack guided them all into line-formation and marched them to their designated area in which to stand. More and more people arrived, all wearing black. A wooden coffin laid on a sort of table-thing in front of everyone, with bouquets of flowers placed all around it. There was a hole already dug into the ground. A preacher stood at the podium beside the coffin and looked over the Bible he was preparing to read from. The funeral began.

Roger was standing with his father towards the front of all the people. He never took his dark-circled eyes off the ground once. His father was crying hard, though. Maurice leaned over to Harold. "Will there be cake at the end of this?" he whispered. Harold screwed up his face in confusion. "Cake?" he whispered back. "Why on earth would there be cake at a funeral?"

"When my great-grandfather died two springs ago, Mummy and Daddy and I went to this thing that all our relatives were attending too, and everyone ate and drank and talked and stuff and there was cake. Then we went to the funeral some time around that."

"I think you're talking about the _wake_, not the actual funeral."

"…So no cake?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Oh,"

Tim elbowed Maurice and shushed him. Simon bowed his head and closed his eyes, saying a silent prayer for the boy whom he'd never met before, but assumed was very nice. _Dear God,_ he thought. _Please accept Roger's brother into Your Kingdom. I don't quite know him personally, but I think You know who I'm talking about. Jack mentioned before that his name was William. So please take William into Heaven. And any other boys that have the name William that may be deceased, by all means take them too. If you take them all, I'm sure he'll be in there somewhere. Also, please help his family heal as they endure their heartbreaking loss. All of us at this funeral are very sad, but I trust that You'll take good care of William even after his death. Amen._ Simon looked up and listened to what the preacher was saying about William. "This poor, innocent child was very sick." the elderly man said. "Diseased with rickets, losing strength, fighting an uphill battle…and only at fifteen years old…"

Robert tapped Bill's shoulder. "What's a ricket?"

"A what?" Bill asked.

"That man just said William had some rickets. What's a ricket?"

"I think it's a sickness. Ask Jack."

Robert pulled on Jack's choir robe and asked the same question. Jack rolled his eyes. "It's a disease. He had no bone strength and lack of nutrients. He couldn't get better. He was weak." he responded in an annoyed tone of voice. "Now shut up and pay attention!"

The preacher went on. "There's only so much a living body can take. It's only so strong. Poor William was stricken, and had no choice but to give in." Jack saw Roger weep bitterly at that, sobbing as he had in choir. He wondered what was really wrong. The preacher stepped away from the podium and looked at Roger. Roger's father handed him a piece of paper and tried sending him up. But the small boy wouldn't go. He kept shaking his head and hugging himself. "No," he could be heard saying repeatedly. The father tried and tried to put him up there, but Roger wouldn't move. He sat on the ground as he sobbed into his arms. And that was that.

During the final viewing, the choir walked up individually to see the body. Inside the casket, there was a small boy that looked similar to Roger, only older. Same dark hair, same pale skin, same thin frame. Except on his legs, he wore metal cage-like braces that were clearly used to help him walk. He looked as if he were sleeping. Before Maurice stepped up to the coffin, Jack grabbed him by the back of his robe. "You try any funny business here and see how fast I throw you out of choir, and that's a promise." he hissed into his ear. Maurice just nodded. He wasn't planning on doing anything stupid, but he knew how he liked to be the clown of the group, and why that could concern Jack at a funeral.

They watched when Roger went up to the casket. He took the longest. He looked down and stroked his brother's cheek. They saw him take the cold, bony hand. He was whispering through his tears, but Jack was too far away to make out what he was saying. Roger finished, bent down into the box, and kissed his brother twice. Simon saw his mouth make the shapes of "I love you," one last time.

After the funeral service, everyone began to slowly depart. The coffin was sealed and laid into the grave. Roger stood before the tombstone, clutching his hands together. He was clearly fighting back tears. The choir approached him quietly. Simon went first. He gave Roger's shoulders a gentle squeeze. Jack went to Roger's side and stood there for a moment. The pale boy raised his red, swollen eyes to look up at his leader. He fell into his arms. Roger pulled Simon in close too. Jack hugged and hugged him, murmuring how sorry he was for this to happen. Simon just gently stroked Roger's hair. Roger bitterly cried as if his life was ending. All of the other boys looked at each other. They all moved at once to wrap their arms around the three, encasing Roger in one huge hug from many arms.

Simon felt Roger starting to get weighed down by all the boys. He and Jack gently wrapped their arms around him closer to support his weak frame. Jack put his forehead against Roger's. "I'm sorry," he whispered, suddenly feeling emotional himself. "I'm so sorry for the way I treated you the other day…" He felt Roger's hand touch his shoulder. He was forgiven. Simon rested his head close to Roger's. "I know this is the last thing you want to hear right now, but it's going to be ok." he breathed. Roger wept. One by one, the choirboys let go and regrouped off by themselves. Jack and Simon stayed. Roger sank onto the ground in front of the tombstone. Jack hugged him one more time. "You take your time with…whatever you need to, Roge. And should you need _anything_ at all, please come to me." he said. Roger wiped his eyes. He nodded. Jack patted his shoulder. "We love you," he whispered.

Simon stayed behind with Roger. The black-haired boy drew his knees up to his chest. "S-Simon…?" he spoke for the first time in days. Simon leaned in close. "Yes, Roge?"

"You talk to God, right?"

"Of course,"

"Can you tell Him a message to give to William for me?"

"Anything, Roge."

"Tell William that I'm so sorry. I'll never forgive myself."

"…Roger, I'm sure-"

"No! You have to tell him that, alright?!"

"Roger, you're scaring me…"

"Why?!"

"Because you said you'd never forgive yourself,"

Roger put his head on his knees. "It wasn't the rickets that killed him." he sobbed. Simon put an arm around him but said nothing. "Father…was drunk. I always took the beatings for William-and we all understood that. If anyone hit him, he'd literally break. So I always took it. But Father was so reeling drunk that night that he must've forgotten because he swung at William and hit him right in the chest and for days William just coughed and coughed and coughed until it came out bloody and he couldn't move and the doctor said his ribs were shattered but Father said he'd fallen off his crutches and broken them and the doctor told us he was just going to die so we put him in bed and took his leg braces off and left him there and when I said goodbye…" Roger took a deep breath after his never-ending sentence. "When I said goodbye…I told him that I should've jumped in front of him to take the hit. He said it wasn't my fault but I know it is. He's dead because for once in all twelve years of my life I didn't protect him like usual. He was only…fifteen…" Roger bawled again. Simon hugged him close. "Oh, Roger. It isn't your fault at all. Don't think it's your fault. You couldn't have stopped a man as big as your father, especially if he was drunk."

"I hate Father. I hated him before and I hate him even more now. I wish he'd die. I wish one of those planes would fly over our house and just drop a bomb right-"

"Roger, please don't say things while you're angry. You'll always regret it." Simon said gently.

"I regret not stabbing that awful man in his drunken sleep!"

Roger clenched his fists and breathed heavily. Simon rocked him to get his mind off the anger.

Roger got the hiccups from breathing so hysterically. He turned around to face Simon. "I don't think you're batty," he said quietly. Simon smiled and wiped the tears off his friend's cheeks. "And I don't think you're a creepster." he responded. The two hugged each other again. "Just tell God my message, ok? He'll listen to you. He never listened to me." Roger whispered. Simon could only nod. Roger sighed heavily. "Kyrie Eleison…Lord have Mercy…please forgive me…_I let my brother die_…"


	6. Love-struck Neighbor

**This was another request from IcyKaku55. Really, guys, I so appreciate your love for these stories. For a while, I was unsure whether or not I should keep writing them because I was afraid I was focusing too much on one character, not enough on another, did they make any sense, are they too silly, etc. ect. etc.. But you all make me want to keep going. Seriously, thanks. The offer still stands! If you have any ideas or suggestions for the boys, please feel 100% free to let me know! Thanks for loving them all so much-they love you back!**

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Maurice shoved past a few kids in the hall as he ran to meet up with his friend Robert by the lockers. "Robert!" he cried breathlessly as he slowed in front of him. "Oh my!" Maurice panted as Robert raised an eyebrow. "I have big news to tell you!" Robert stood still for a moment, waiting for the jumping bean to catch his breath and calm down enough to actually speak properly. "Phew…alright…I think I'm good now. Guess what! Guess what!"

"I can't even imagine," Robert said sarcastically.

"My next-door neighbor asked if I would take her on a date! Like an actual date!"

Robert raised his eyebrows even higher and leaned against his locker. "Wow, I'm impressed! How far into insanity is she?" he responded. Maurice thought for a moment, then crossed his arms over his chest. "Hey!" he cried. "You haven't even heard the worst part yet! I don't like her! I don't want to take her out _anywhere_!"

"Why not?"

"Because she's a…_girl_!"

"So what? You're almost thirteen. You should start liking girls so you'll be ready for when you're older and you have to date them."

"But I don't want to-"

"Ask Jack about it. All the girls in the neighborhood swoon over him, and he's not dating any of them."

"Good idea. Thanks, Robert! You're the best!"

Maurice took off down the hall at full speed once again, yelling Jack's name as he shoved more boys out of his way.

As geometry class began, Jack took out his notebook and homework. The teacher began discussing what they were going to be learning that day. Suddenly, the door flew open and a breathless boy flew in and halted immediately when he saw class had already started. The teacher turned around. "For running all the way here, you seem pretty out of breath. Makes me wonder what made you rush if you were just going to be late anyway?" he snapped. Maurice reddened and went to his seat. But he found his desk to be occupied. Roger was sitting in the seat beside Jack. It was his first day back to school since his loss. Maurice was about to open his mouth and yell at him, but Jack gave him a stern look. He bit his lip in anger and sat adjacent from his friend.

The teacher went around to check the boys' homework as always and left a math problem up on the board for the class to complete in silence. Maurice did not do his homework and had no intention of solving the equation from the chalkboard. He turned back and saw Jack and Roger writing on the same piece of paper. They were clearly passing notes back and forth. Roger looked even sadder than usual, and Jack was trying to make him feel better. Maurice took his own paper out and began writing a note to Jack to throw at him. _"Help!"_ he wrote out. _"There's this girl that lives next door and wants me to take her on a date! I don't know what to do because I don't like her! Robert said to ask you because all of the neighborhood girls swoon over you. What do I do?!"_ He finished his note by drawing a stick figure girl with hearts all around her reaching for a stick figure boy wearing a choir uniform and looking surprised. The teacher came to his desk. "Homework?" he ordered. Maurice shook his head. "Negative," he said. Suddenly he cracked up. The teacher looked around. "What on earth is so funny?" he commanded sternly. Maurice wiped tears from his eyes. "Negative-as in numbers! Geometry! Math jokes!" he cried out, laughing at his own humor. When he got no humorous response, he looked away. "Maybe you should try looking at it from a different…_angle_!" And with that, he cracked up again.

The teacher checked off Jack's work, complimenting his diligence and effort towards every problem. Jack smiled proudly and thanked him. Roger hadn't done any work. Considering he hadn't been in school for quite a few days, he wasn't really ready to jump back into it. Maurice watched jealously as the teacher leaned towards Roger and said quietly, "I'm so sorry for your loss, Roger. If there's anything I can do to help, please let me know. Is there any way you can get caught up with the lessons we've passed already?" Roger nodded. He nudged Jack's arm, not wanting to speak. "I'm helping him. We're reviewing the past few problems to be sure he understands." Jack responded dutifully. The teacher nodded. "Very good. Thank you, Jack." he replied.

Maurice finished up his note and tossed it over his shoulder for Jack to catch. He couldn't look behind him, because the teacher was already doing the problem on the board, and liked to call on people that weren't paying attention. He heard the paper unfold. He tapped his foot in anticipation for a response from the head boy. No reply came. Instead, a cackling laugh echoed from the back of the room and was immediately silenced. Maurice whipped around. Jack wasn't in his seat. The bathroom key was gone. Roger had the paper in his hands.

The look on his face was absolute horror. From behind him, Harold was reading over his shoulder with a red face from suppressing laughter. He playfully knocked Roger over the back of the head while whistling a cat call. Roger moved his dark eyes slowly up to Maurice. He shook his head. "I hate you," he mouthed. Maurice whirled back around and put his head in his hands. _Great,_ he thought. _Now I've got creepster hating me for an accident! Jesus, Jack! What a convenient time to use the restroom!_

When Jack returned, Maurice turned back and waved his arms wildly at Roger, begging him to hand Jack the note. Jack saw, and looked back and forth between the two. Roger begrudgingly handed over the now crumpled piece of paper. Jack read it. He rolled his eyes and looked at Maurice. "Really? Right now?" he whispered. Maurice shrugged. "Girls are _gross_!" he whispered back. For some unknown reason, Roger put his head down on the desk rather suddenly. Jack waved his hand, indicating they'd talk about Maurice's problem later.

After class, Maurice walked with Jack (and much to his chagrin, Roger) and they talked about Maurice's "date". "Listen," Jack coached. "If you really don't want to go, just tell her you're busy. I say it to girls all the time. Honestly, I use choir as an excuse sometimes, being head boy and all. Not that it doesn't actually take up so much of my time. But you have to be subtle about it. Don't flat out just say it. Make her feel good. Don't necessarily lead her on; females are particularly delicate with their feelings. Otherwise, you could always just go on the date, get it over with, and then tell her it's not going to work out. Maybe she'll feel that same. That's the most honest way to do it. It all depends on what you feel when you see her." Maurice rubbed his face with his hands, pulling his skin in exasperation. "I hate growing up!" he cried out. "This must be why we go to an all-boys school. I don't think the headmaster or anyone could stand girls either!"

Maurice was approaching his house as he walked home from school. So far, there'd been no sightings of his love-struck neighbor. He pulled the key out of his backpack to let himself in the door. Just as he was about to walk up the steps to the large brick house, he heard hurried footsteps get louder and louder. A young girl wearing her St. Anne Catholic School for Girls dress and two long blonde braids with bows at the ends came bounding up to him, smiling bigger than a Cheshire cat. "Maurice!" she cried, stopping in front of him and folding her hands in front of her sweetly. Maurice froze. "Oh, Maurice! How was your day? Did you have fun at choir? I hope you're excited for our date this Saturday! I've already chosen a place to go!" she bubbled with excitement. Maurice's eyes were wide. _What would Jack say, what would Jack say, what would Jack say,_ he thought repeatedly. "Listen, Myrtle." he said carefully. "I…I'm going to be busy for…ever. So…we can't actually…like…go on a date. Forever. So." he said carefully, mentally picturing her emotions as a white lily that was opening its petals, and he saw his foot hovering over the flower almost ready to stomp it. But she didn't seem affected. She giggled and took a step closer. "Maybe this will change your mind!" she said.

She stood up on her toes and planted a kiss on Maurice's cheek.

Maurice screamed and screamed as if she'd just driven a sword into his face. He dashed up the steps and forced his key into the door, screaming all the way, and as he ran inside, he looked behind him to make sure she stayed where she was. He slammed the door and ran into his room, still screaming. He sat on his bed and buried his head under his pillow in complete terror.


	7. Bake Sale

**Here's just a sort of fun one I thought up. Thank you all so much for your support! The boys enjoy your ideas and your love towards them! ;) Hope you like this chapter!**

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Simon sat in the car wit his neat little basket resting on his lap. It was a lovely Saturday morning, in his opinion, but to the other boys in the choir, it was a waste. It happened to be the day of the annual fundraising bake sale in the park-all of the boys were responsible for bringing a treat to sell, they'd stay out all day, and sell their goodies to people who passed. Simon loved it. He found it so much fun to bake and display all the wonderfully sweet desserts; the other boys, not so much.

Simon's mother pulled into a parking space. "Alright sweetie, we're here." she said. Simon undid his seatbelt-very proud that he was finally big enough to be able to sit in the front seat-and adjusted his basket. "Thanks for driving me, Mummy." he replied sweetly. She cooed and kissed his cheek. "Want me to walk you towards the others or just let you off here?" she asked.

"I'll be fine. I know where they're set up."

"Are you sure you'll get there alright?"

"I'll be ok. Honestly. But thank you, Mummy."

"That's my big boy. Daddy and I will be here to buy something once he gets home from work. We're coming to town to do some shopping but we'll be sure to stop by."

"Alright. Have fun shopping. And tell Daddy that I love him too!"

Simon gave his mother another kiss on the cheek, then leaned down and planted a kiss on her stomach, which was beginning to show pregnancy. She patted his head at the sweet gestured toward his unborn sibling. Simon opened the car door and got out. He began to walk towards the park entrance with his basket in hand. Then he turned around. Simon waved to his mother back in the car. She waved back, smiling, and blew him a kiss. He continued to walk through the park past the picnickers and ball-throwers and walkers and readers until he saw a row of tables all set up with several boys wearing black cloaks behind them. He waved to them all, even though none waved back, and ran the rest of the way.

Jack was making sure everything was in order for the bake sale to being. "Merridew, I'm hot!" Bill called out miserably. Jack turned his head. "It's only nine in the morning! There's no heat to even complain about yet!" He turned to Simon. "Ah, there's Simon. You're down on the right side, between Roger and Maurice. I figured Roger would like that. And please…do everything you can to keep them from fighting." Jack spilled out all at once, clearly stressed out by his tasks. Simon nodded. "Of course," he said obediently. He went to the spot beside Maurice. Roger wasn't there yet. "Hi, Maurice!" Simon cheerfully greeted. Maurice put his head flat on the table. "Aw, come on Merridew! You put _him_ next to me?! Who else is going to be around to annoy me? _Roger_?!" he meant it as a joke, but he clearly didn't know the lineup order. Simon bit his lip and just stayed silent.

By nine thirty, everyone had arrived except for Roger. Jack put his head in his hands. He was standing in front of Simon, holding his clipboard full of information, as the boys unpacked their treats. Simon heard him mutter, "I'm not going to lose it. I'm staying calm. He's going through a rough time. Yelling will make it worse. Everything will be fine." Robert waved his hand in the air and leaned over the table from the left-hand side of boys. "Merridew? I think a dog just peed on the tablecloth over here!" he hollered. With that, Jack slammed his clipboard down on the table and yelled a quick swear.

Simon looked around at what everyone else had made. Bill brought some slices of loaf cake, Tim made sugar cookies, Henry made cookies that were cat-shaped and even had sprinkles as the whiskers, Robert brought homemade butterscotch candies, Charles made chocolate-dipped marshmallows, Michael baked chocolate chip cookies (and had previously gotten into an argument with Tim over which kind was better), Harold cooked up some chocolate-dipped strawberries, Rupert brought pre-sliced pieces of vanilla cake, Richard made some very delicious-looking brownies, and Jack brought peppermint flavored bark. Simon carefully unpacked his cupcakes and set them out of the table. Maurice was nowhere near as careful with his display. Simon curiously asked what he'd put in the strange (and very lumpy) cookies. "Well," he said proudly. "I started making chocolate chip cookies, but then I remembered Charles was making them. But it was too late because I'd already put the chocolate in. So I added in some walnuts, then almonds, then raisins, and finished it off with some oatmeal and threw them in the oven. Mum was pretty upset when she saw the mess I'd made." he laughed.

Bill pointed off into the distance and said something to Jack. A small figure draped in a long black cloak was crossing toward them. He had his head down the whole way, and wordlessly passed by everyone stationed at their tables as he took a spot at the open area beside Simon. He swung a burlap bag on the cleared space. The others boys were whispering as Simon wondered whether or not he should greet the boy. Roger bent down and began untying his shoelaces, kicking the shoes off entirely and standing in bare feet. Jack approached him calmly. He glanced down at the boy's shoeless feet. He opened his mouth as if to ask why in the world he did that, but he shut it after a moment. Roger didn't wait for him to ask. "Walked all the way here. Shoes blistered my feet. They're killin' me, I tell you." he explained quickly, still not looking up. Jack simply nodded. He turned back towards the others.

Simon watched as Roger unpacked his treats. Maurice howled with laughter. "What on God's green earth is _that_?!" he cackled, drawing everyone's attention to Roger's spot on the table. Some squishy-looking pastries were sagging all together with fruit juices and pulp flowing out the creases. Everyone started laughing at the mess on the plate. Even Jack fought to hold back a smile. "Roge…" he began slowly. Again, Roger didn't wait for a question. "They're supposed to be fruit pastries. William made them for me all the time. They were his favorites. He didn't leave me a recipe, though. So…I had to…" his voice trailed off, he looked down at the ground and took a few seconds of silence. "Improvise." he finished finally.

Bill reached across Tim to poke a pasty-looking dessert. Strawberry filling seeped out a of a near-raw crust. "It looks like a spleen," he said with disgust. Everyone let out a collective "Ew…" and turned back to their own normal desserts.

Jack approached that end of the table. "Roger, we can't-"

"I tried, Jack. I really tried. They're not supposed to look like this." Roger explained. Maurice snorted from the background. "The heck they're not!" he called. Jack shot him a look. He turned back to Roger. "I know you tried. You did a fairly good job, considering you had no recipe. But you hardly baked them. Look-they're doughy. Soft. Inedible. I'm sorry, Roge. We can't sell them."

"Father was upset when he asked what I was making."

"…What?"

"He knew William always made them. Always liked them. When he saw me trying instead, he…he just got upset."

Jack paused for a moment.

"…Where does it hurt, Roge?"

"My arms and shoulders,"

Simon grimaced at the four words. He felt so sorry for his friend. Jack sighed. Roger still wasn't looking away from the ground. He pushed the plate away from him and hugged himself. Simon moved half of his neatly-made cupcakes towards him and arranged them nicely in his spot. "Here," he said quietly. "We'll share these." Roger looked up for the first time. He inspected the cupcakes. "You share too much with me," he mumbled softly. Simon looked confused. "But I don't mind it-"

"You shouldn't have to."

Jack intervened before either of the two started crying. "Why don't you take the peppermint bark I made, and I'll just handle the money people pay. That way you have a dessert to sell, and I have something other to do than sit next to Bill and listen to him blabber about the times he's cheated 'right under a teacher's nose'. Does that sound alright?" he asked. Roger nodded slowly. He gave Simon back the cupcakes as Jack went to fetch the peppermint bark. "Thank you anyways, Simon." he whispered. Simon gently patted his back-avoiding his shoulders-to show appreciation towards his friend.

The bake sale went very well, actually. The choir made more money than they ever did and everyone seemed to have not too bad of a time. Well, that is, until Maurice let out a loud yell that silenced everyone. He was staring off into the distance, a look of panic on his face. "It's…it's…" he stuttered, unable to speak of his fear. The person that he was pointing at came closer at a very fast speed. "It's _Myrtle!_" Maurice gasped. Nearly all the boys whistled cat-calls or made kissy sounds as she came closer just to annoy him. Roger leaned back and folded his arms across his chest, smirking at the thought of Maurice being horribly embarrassed by someone else in front of all of his peers. _Taste of your own medicine_, he thought.

Myrtle bounded up with excitement, immediately greeting Maurice and buying three of his nasty cookies. Jack gave her the change she needed and everyone leaned forward in anticipation as she took a bite. She chewed for a moment, blushing at the fact that fourteen boys were all staring at her. She coughed a bit, then swallowed. A rather surprised-yet confused-look dawned on her face. She put a hand to her mouth and cleared her throat. "That was…interesting." she said. "I'm sure it tasted a little good just because you made it. But…I think _I'll_ be doing all the cooking when we're married."

With that, Maurice sank his head and arms onto the table, letting out an exasperated moan. "Get out of here, Myrtle! We're not getting married! Go buy someone else's stuff!" he gave in muffled response. She threw her arms around his half-hidden neck. "You look so adorable in your little uniform! You're the best looking one out of all your friends! Tell them they all did a wonderful dessert presentation!" she squealed.

"I don't think I'll have to, considering you're _yelling into my ear!_" he hollered back. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and instantly ran off, laughing giddily. Maurice sat up and threw his arms in the air, shouting with rage. "Oh that bloody girl is going to be the _death_ of me!" he shouted.

Suddenly, they all heard a light, airy chuckle coming from among them. Everyone looked around. They gasped when they saw it was Roger. He was softly laughing so hard that tears were on the verge of spilling from his eyes. This only made Maurice angrier. He sat down on the grass grumpily and put his back to all of them. Everyone eventually began laughing (mostly because of Maurice's predicament) with Roger. Some had never seen him laugh before. Or smile.

At around dinner time, most of the parents came to buy treats from their sons. They milled about and bought some desserts that the boys picked out for themselves, all so proud that their children belonged to such a wonderful group. Simon waved to his parents as they walked toward the bake sale. His parents waved back eagerly. He ran to them and gave them a big hug, taking them by the hand and leading them to the tables. Maurice's daddy and mum bought something from every boy, which Maurice was pleased with because they promised to leave a taste of each for him to try. Bill's father bought a lot of goods too, except for the lumpy cookies that had too much stuff thrown in them.

Simon tugged on his mother's sleeve and whispered into her ear. She thought for a moment. Simon went off to go sell more cupcakes, but she stayed thinking. Simon's mother put a hand on her nearly round stomach and glanced at the pale boy with dark circled eyes standing beside her son all alone. She touched her husband's arm as he reached to pick up another slice of loaf cake. "That boy doesn't have a parent here," she whispered, nodding toward Roger. Her husband looked at him. "Ah, that was the one that Simon attended the funeral for his brother, right? He looks sad still." he observed.

"We should buy a treat for him,"

"Do you know what he likes?"

"Oh, just look at the poor thing. I bet he'll eat anything-he's so thin."

"How about we get him two chocolate chip cookies?"

"That'd be perfect."

The two parents purchased the sweets discretely and handed them to Roger. He looked up at them in shock, unsure of what to say. "I-I…" he began but couldn't finish. Simon's father patted his head. "It's alright, son. They're for you." he explained. Roger blinked. "Oh…thank you so much…I don't even know…what to say. How can I thank you?" he asked nervously. The two laughed. "No need to thank us." Simon's mother said. "Did you make this wonderful peppermint bark?"

"Well…Jack made it. But he let me sell it so he could be in charge of the money."

"You made something else then?"

"I tried to…make some fruit pastries. But they didn't turn out well. Inedible. I was looking forward to selling them. Bad cook. I can't cook. Turned out bad."

"Well…let's see them. Maybe they're not so bad after all."

Roger took out the plate of "organs", as Bill had called it. Both parents hid their surprise at the rather distasteful sight of practically raw pastry. "We'll buy the whole plate of them." Simon's father said after a moment. Roger's mouth opened. "R-Really? You don't have to do that-"

"It's alright, son. They look good,"

"I-I…don't want to poison you…"

"You won't poison us. We'll have them for dessert tonight after dinner."

Roger stared in shock as the two walked away with his dessert in their hands. _They wanted it,_ he thought. _They paid attention to it. Oh, please don't let them get sick if they eat that horrid mistake!_ Simon brushed his arm gently. He smiled. Roger looked at him for a moment, then down at the ground. "T-Tell them I thank them profusely." he said softly.

Harold's mother and father offered to buy any desserts that were left over from the bake sale at the end of the night. The boys were enthralled. For usually hating doing the fundraiser, that year's had actually gone very well. Jack gathered them in a circle and counted the money aloud. Once they got a grand total, everyone cheered. It was the highest fundraising total on record. "Great job, everyone!" Jack called as everyone celebrated with the treats their parents bought. It did turn out just as well after all. For everyone.


	8. Cold!

**This is just a quick little one I thought of while being inspired by the cold. I hope you like it (perhaps you can relate to one of the boys here!) and thank you for reading! :)**

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Robert blew into his hands and rubbed them together before picking up his pencil and beginning to copy the notes down from the board. It was the tail-end of January; a miserable time weather-wise. The school's heater had died that morning. Inside the huge brick building, everything was icy cold. The boys were shivering, the teachers were in no mood to teach, and the cold air just hung around as if refusing to warm up. The history teacher that was trying to lecture in front of the class sighed after a few minutes of explaining the Boxer Rebellion. "I sense that none of you are actually paying much attention, and I must admit, neither am I. It's absolutely unbearable to teach in such cold temperatures. Either work on something from another class or read quietly. Make sure your coats are on though." he instructed. All of the boys, very pleased at receiving free time, hastily put their notebooks away and gathered in groups of friends.

Majority of the choirboys were in this class all at the same time. They coagulated in the left-hand corner of the room. Jack pulled his scarf closer around his neck. "Good _God _is it cold!" he muttered through chattering teeth. "Someone ought to pay to have the heater fixed." Maurice rubbed his fingers on this own sleeves and shuffled his feet. "I think someone ought to make mittens for toes like we wear on our hands." he said. Bill nudged him. "They're called socks." he replied. Maurice thought for a moment. He nodded. "But they ought to have little spaces for the toes to go into-like a mitten has spaces for the fingers!"  
"Nuts!"

Everyone laughed a shivery laugh. Simon pulled his choir robe closer around himself and opened his reading book. Quietly, he began reading in the corner. Simon enjoyed reading so much because it usually took his mind off things that were bothering him. It was only suitable to read in this unbearable cold too. Harold stomped his feet. "Do you think the teacher would mind very much if I made a campfire back here?" he asked with a chuckle. "I wouldn't mind!" Bill seconded. Jack scoffed. "We need no fire-we need a better school heater!" he retorted miserably.

Simon turned another page in his book and felt someone bump his elbow rather gently. He looked up, squeaking out a small "I'm sorry," but smiled when he saw it was Roger coming to sit beside him in the corner. He too had a book in hand, but not a reading one. It was his sketchbook. "Want to sit here?" Simon asked. Roger made no sound. He just sat down in the small space beside his friend. "It's rather warm in the corner because it's so small. It feels nice." Simon explained, not expecting a response. Roger pulled his robe over his legs. He quietly began sketching.

Jack couldn't take much more of just sitting in complete cold. His irritability was rising by the second. He glanced around to see if all the boys were behaving themselves (especially after Harold's quip about starting a campfire and everyone's agreement to it) and saw Simon all scrunched up with Roger in the small space. He got an idea. "Alright, now. I've thought of something to keep us warm for the time being." he called out to the choir. The boys listened. "Let's all get into a circle-a tight circle. Shoulder to shoulder. Like one big group hug. That way, the heat will stay in the middle of us and we'll feel warmer." After a few seconds of thought from the boys, they all started nodding. "Yes, that'll work." Bill responded. "What an idea!" Henry marveled. "My socks should have toes!" Maurice whined. Jack called the two warmest little bodies out of their space and toward the shivering group. They all got close-very close-and adjusted so that the space in the middle was minimal.

Some boys put their arms around each other, others kept their rubbing their hands together inside their choir robes. They sat very still for a little while, just a mass of black fabric, and waited for the warmth to come.

And waited.

And waited.

After a while, Roger broke the silence. "…I _hate_ this!" he raised his voice. They all eased back a little, asking Jack why it didn't feel nice and toasty like they thought and why the circle fell apart and why socks really didn't have toes on them. Simon glanced down as Roger pulled his knees up to his chest. He noticed the holes that periodically covered his gloves and wondered if he was cold. He wasn't complaining though. Simon sat a little closer to him just in case he should need some extra warmth. Roger seemed to appreciate that, even though he didn't say it.

Jack sighed. "Well that turned out to be a fat lot of nothing," he grumbled. He gave a shiver and turned around after rubbing his arms. Immediately, his attention snapped to the boys. Maurice was sitting on the ground with one shoe and sock off, trying to fit his mitten over his foot. He was laughing as though he was the funniest person in the whole world, and all of the other boys were hysterically laughing with him. "_Maurice!_ You stop that right now! Do you want to catch a cold?! Or get frostbitten?! Act like a twelve-year-old, for God's _sakes_!" Jack scolded. But when he saw Harold trying to rub two pencils together and Henry shredding paper into little bits and sweeping them into a nice pile that the pencils were rubbing over, he almost lost it. "Both of _you cut it out!_ Do you want to light the whole room on fire?!"  
"…It would be better than the ice palace it is right now!" Henry giggled. Jack confiscated the pencils furiously and made them both sit down. He put a hand on his head. "Ugh, if there's anything worse than cold, it's having a headache in it…" he mumbled.


	9. It's a Date, Then

**Just a quick one. There will be a follow-up to this chapter soon, and I think you're all going to like it very much. Call this one a "prequel", if you will. Nevertheless, I hope you find it at least a little funny. Just know that there's more coming. Promise. Don't give up on me just yet! 3**

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Maurice stood in the hallway between English class and chemistry, repeatedly banging his forehead into the lockers slowly. Bill went walking past, but backtracked when he saw his friend. He watched for a moment. "You're starting to freak me out." he honestly said. Maurice stopped with his head against the cold metal locker. "She won't stop. It's endless." he replied despondently. "Every time I see her it's 'marry me, love me, I love you, kiss me, pay attention to me'. And I don't even like her. Now it's worse because Valentine's day is coming up. It's all she ever talks about." Bill immediately assumed Maurice was talking about Myrtle. "How do you see her when you come home from choir later than she gets out of school?" he asked.

"She's everywhere. I swear she waits for me. Just yesterday, I was making a snowman outside in the yard and she comes over to me and starts making a girl snowman! She says it's her and I. She told me to leave it there for everyone to see! She even made her snowgirl hold my snowman's stick hand! So when she left, I made my snowman frown."

"Don't you think she'll notice?"

"Oh she noticed alright. She went back out and turned it into a _smile!_"

The two walked to the lunchroom together. When they sat down at the exclusive choir table, Maurice began telling Jack his problems. Jack listened patiently, seemingly making a decision. "Well, I suppose the only thing you _can_ do is just take her out on a date once. Maybe then she'll understand that you don't really want to be with her. At least it'll satisfy her for a little bit." he suggested. Maurice put his head on the table. "I can't imagine spending an entire dinner with her _alone_!" he groaned. "Hey, I've got an idea! Why don't we all go on a date?" Jack exclaimed excitedly. Harold spit his milk straight out. "Absolutely not! I'd never date any of you!" he spat with disgust. Henry raised half of a grape up in agreement as he swallowed. "I second that," he said calmly. Jack put a hand on his forehead and moved it down his face. "I'm not talking about _us_ all dating, you idiots! I mean that we should all take a girl from St. Anne's Catholic School for Girls out on a date to the same place as Maurice is taking Myrtle, same time. It'll be like a group date thing. Nobody has to worry about being alone."

Everyone began agreeing slowly. Robert reached across the table to tap Jack's arm. He wanted his attention. "Well that's a fine idea for you, Jack. But how about for those of us that don't have girls swooning over us? What if we don't have a girl?" he asked, rather annoyed. Maurice looked him straight in the eye. "Would you like to borrow mine?" he asked. Everyone laughed. Simon wasn't too sure about this idea. He didn't really know how his parents would react to this news. "But…we're only twelve…" he quietly objected. Bill heard him and silence everyone. "What'd you say, Batty?" he teased. Simon looked down and didn't respond right away. After a few seconds, he repeated his statement. Giggles erupted a little. "Oh come now," Jack spoke up. "It's not like we're asking you to fall madly in love with someone and marry them. We're just doing this so Maurice won't feel alone."

"…But isn't that giving the girls false hope?"

"Not if they're thinking the same thing. It'll be like one gender group of friends meeting another gender-group of friends and going to a restaurant. Just like that. Nothing else."

Simon fell quiet again. Robert chuckled. "Batty's afraid!"

"Scared of girls!" Henry sniggered.

"He's only twelve!" mocked Bill.

"You're just a baby, aren't you, Batty?" Harold laughed.

"Call him batty one more time and I'll knock every tooth in your skull out." a faint but husky voice said.

Everyone stopped laughing. Moving. Practically breathing. Roger eyed them all-his cold gaze sweeping every single boy. Simon glanced up at the boy who was sitting next to him. They'd all forgotten he was there. The silence was drawn out, long, and awkward. Those big brown eyes never strayed from a target. Jack didn't even say anything. He did notice though that Roger and Simon were sharing a lunch again. Roger had a piece of a cracker in his bony fingers. Simon had placed the bag between them and had welcomed his friend to taking some. After a long time, Roger broke the stare. He looked down and began nibbling on the cracker again quietly.

Jack cleared his throat, eager to ease some of the tension. "Alright then. It's decided. Maurice, you tell Myrtle that you'll take her on a date next Friday, and we'll all find a girl to take." he instructed. Maurice nodded and was followed by the other boys. Simon swallowed hard. This wasn't going to be easy. All of the others started talking about their normal topics. Simon turned to Roger. "Are you as nervous about this as I am?" he asked. Roger shrugged. "Probably won't go."  
"Even if you do find a girl to take? And maybe you'll like her?"  
"No."  
"I just don't really want to do this."  
"You'll be fine."  
"Roger?"  
"What,"  
"Thank you,"  
"For what?"  
"For stopping them when they were making fun of me. Nobody's done that before."  
"I have to thank you somehow. For always sharing everything with me. And being nice to me. You're nice. They're not."  
"I don't mind sharing with you at all."

Simon looked up at Jack for no reason in particular, and found that he was eating his ham sandwich, but carefully eying Roger. Roger wasn't paying attention. Simon could sense that Jack felt a slight discomfort around the smaller boy, yet also great admiration at the same time. Jack broke his stare when he realized Simon had caught him. He gave him a smile, then went back to eating his sandwich. Simon looked around the lunchroom. _All of these boys are smarter than me, better looking than me, and more social than me,_ he thought despondently. _No girl would want to go with a person who has fainting spells and gets called batty for clear purposes. What if I really can't get someone to go with me to the restaurant?_


	10. Getting the Girls

**Wow, ten chapters already! I would just like to thank each and every one of you for your reads and your support! you really keep me going. Just a note: the previous chapter, this one, and the next chapter are kind of a set-they all go together. I hope you like this one! I apologize for the length, but I wanted to put as much humor and heart into it as possible. ! ! ! **

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Maurice trudged home, head down, knowing what was waiting for him by the steps. Sure enough, he heard a squeal as he rounded the block and approached his house. "Hello, Maurice!" Myrtle sing-songed. He sighed. She gave him a big hug. "How was choir today?" she asked brightly. He shrugged. "Fine." He knew that now all of the boys were looking for dates. If he didn't ask his question…ugh, they'd all hate him. "Myrtle," he started slowly. She nodded and smiled. If she had a tail, it'd have been wagging a thousand meters per second. "How would you like to go to a restaurant with me next Friday-"  
"Oh yes, yes, yes! Of course I'd love to, Maurice! I've only been waiting forever for you to ask me!" she exploded with happiness, instantly continuing on about the dress she'd wear and all that. Maurice left her out on the doorstep, still bubbling with excitement, and went inside. As soon as he got to his bed, he laid facedown and let a scream out into his pillow.

Bill proudly walked by the St. Anne's Catholic School for Girls bus stop near his house, timing his entrance perfectly. A whole bus-full of girls-what could go wrong? The bus pulled up and four girls hopped off. Bill took this as his chance. One girl was holding a paper out in front of her, complaining to her friends that she just didn't understand the new algebra chapter, and therefore failed the test. Bill stepped in front of her. "Oh, are you learning that stuff too?" he said abruptly. The way they all stopped and looked at him made him feel a little nervous. The girl nodded. She shyly handed him the paper. He scanned it, remembering that this was the lesson he'd slept through and copied the homework from Robert for. He nodded proudly. "I remember this. Mastered it. Aced every test and quiz and answered every in-class question." he stated. Everything in his sentence was a lie. The females looked at him in admiration. The girl who had the paper spoke up. "Maybe would you like to tutor me?" she asked quietly. Bill froze. _Do I tutor her and risk looking like an idiot, or do I say no and try to find another date?_ He thought. Being the magnificent fooler that he was, he nodded. "Of course I will! How does next Friday sound? We'll go to a restaurant first, then we'll study." he explained. She agreed to. Bill walked her home. _Now I've got a week to learn all this stuff…_

Robert and Harold were playing kick-the-can outside in the park. The two were having a marvelous time, laughing and goofing off. Harold kicked the can way too high and it landed straight onto a picnickers' blanket. They rushed over to go retrieve their can, both red-faced and apologizing profusely. The two picnickers were girls their age. Both giggled. Harold nudged Robert's shoulder discretely. They smiled at the two. "Sorry, my lady." Harold bowed to one of the girls, taking her hand and making her blush, having somewhat much experience with trying to flirt. Robert (who did not have much experience) followed suit, taking the other girl's hand. "I'm sorry," he said awkwardly. The other girl didn't give much response. Harold pointed at the blanket. "Oh look! We've ruined your picnic!" he said flirtatiously. There was a smashed sandwich on the blanket from where the can hit it. "No, it's quite alright. We were almost finished." Harold's girl replied. He shook his head. "No, no, no! We'll make it up to you. How about we take you two to dinner next Friday night? It'll be much better than a picnic." he offered with a wink. His girl blushed and giggled. She agreed to go. Robert looked at his girl. "Wanna come?" he asked, much less romantically. She nodded. "Alright. But just because my sister is going." she retorted, clearly not impressed by Robert. The boys looked at each other. Sisters. That was easy.

Henry had a much more difficult time finding a girl. He looked around all week, but never really had any luck. They'd either turn him down or not exist. He decided one afternoon to cheer himself up by going to the candy store on Main Street. As soon as he entered, the welcoming aroma of delicious sweets filled his nose. He picked out three pieces of chocolate and a lollipop (for the way home, of course) and proceeded to the counter to pay with his allowance money. Standing up ahead, a young girl was crying because she'd dropped her sixpence somewhere along the way there and couldn't find it. She couldn't buy any candy. Harold purchased his candy and started to walk out the door, thinking about the crying girl the whole time. He turned around and went back into the store. He held his lollipop towards her and waited for her to stop sniffling. "You can have this," he said. She wiped her eyes and took it, thanking him profusely. "It's my little brother's birthday. I stopped to get him some sweets, but then I lost my money. Thank you for getting him a present for me. I _must_ repay you!" she said sweetly. He smiled. "Want to go to dinner with me next Friday? It'll only be like a friend thing. I need someone to go with, and you want to repay me." he suggested. She nodded. "Yes, I'd like to," she said. Henry shrugged. He gave her one more smile which she returned sweetly.

Roger and Jack were walking along one Saturday afternoon through the city. Jack had invited him to spend the afternoon with him so that maybe they could become better friends when Roger clearly needed it so much. There wasn't much talking going on between them. Jack did most of it. Both boys were wearing their play-clothes instead of their school uniforms, except they fit a little different between them. Jack's were normal-the pants fit just right, his shirt was roomy but relative, and his coat fell on his shoulders just right. Roger, not so much. His clothes were all just slightly too big for him. Jack immediately surmised that he was now wearing William's hand-me-downs. As they walked, they looked through the windows of the shops. Jack nudged Roger when they got to the toy store. A girl was standing in front of the window, looking at a doll. "That's Mary-Sue Ridley. She's the head girl of the St. Anne's choir. And she's about to become my date to the dinner." he explained in a whisper. Roger smirked and watched as Jack approached her (having much experience with getting a date) and talked to her for a little bit. Eventually, she was standing very close to him and swinging side to side playfully. When Jack clearly secured the date, he gave her hair a gentle brush with his fingertips as she walked away, making her blush and smile. He went back to Roger. "That's how it's done." he remarked proudly. Roger chuckled. "I knew her from before. She lives a few blocks away. Plus, us leaders need to stick together." Jack added with a wink.

They walked on, kicking a rock back and forth between them. At one point, Roger missed. He swung his foot too fast and ended up slipping on the icy sidewalk. He fell. People turned and looked. Jack extended a hand to help him up, but he wouldn't move. He just kept looking down at the ground. Jack knelt beside him. "Get up!" he whispered harshly. "People are looking!" Roger drew his knees up close to his chest and put his forehead on them. The deep sighs came again. Jack could already tell that he was crying. For what reason, the redhead had no idea, but he figured it might be compilation of things. Some of the ice skaters on the pond looked over. It felt like everyone was staring. One girl stepped off the ice and removed her skates, approaching Roger carefully. Jack backed up a little, unsure of what was happening. She put a gentle hand on Roger's shoulder, causing him to look up slowly. He blinked a bit, then looked away. "Smile for me," she whispered. He didn't respond. She repeated herself, this time with a grin herself. Roger hugged his arms. She giggled and reached for his sides, giving them a squeeze. Surprisingly, he twitched and started to laugh at the ticklish feeling. She didn't stop until he was actually laughing hard. Then they looked at each other, a silence falling. Their smiles were fading. Jack was screaming in his mind to Roger, _Say something! Don't let her get away!_ Roger sighed, looked at the ground, then tossed his head a little. The girl smiled again. "You need to laugh more," she said. Roger didn't reply. He waited for a few moments, thinking about what Jack would do. "C-Could you help me with that?" he asked softly. Jack gasped. Roger never asked for help. Ever. Nor did he speak unless spoken to (unless thoroughly bothered). She laughed though. She gave the affirmative. Roger spilled a few facts about the coming Friday, short as usual, and stood up. The two stared at each other for a little longer. They hugged. Jack just beamed and felt utter relief inside that yet another person in the world didn't let Roger down.

Simon sat in a big comfy chair in the warmth of the library. He'd spoken to his parents about the subject of the date, and they'd told him that they were alright with him going with a girl as long as he chose wisely and made good decisions. It was Wednesday evening, and still he had found no girl. He thought about what Roger had said, and figured that maybe it would be best if he didn't go either. He wanted to wait until he found the perfect girl to try dating. He flipped through a few pages of the big encyclopedia that sat on his lap until he got to the picture of a beautiful orange tiger. He read all about the animal, soaking up the information like a sponge. He smiled when he finished. Simon loved animals so much. Just as he began flipping to the page that had elephants on it, a whisper in front of him brought his eyes up from the book. "Oh, there it is." It was a girl's whisper. He glanced up nervously and saw a girl with fair hair and glasses standing in front of him. She was biting her nail, just as nervous as he. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you." she said quickly. Simon shook his head. "Y-You didn't," he said, astounded by her beauty. She gave a weak smile and started to walk away. Simon called out to her. "Hey! Did you need something?"  
"Oh, I-I was looking for an animal encyclopedia, and I saw it wasn't on the shelf. But I see you're using it. I was just glad I'd found it."  
"Do you want it?"  
"No, no. It's fine. Just take your time."  
"It's alright, though. I was just reading a little. What did you want to look up?"  
"N-Nothing…"  
"It's alright. You can tell me. I love animals too."  
"W-Well, I was going to look up an Emperor Penguin."

Simon moved over in his chair, leaving enough room for her to sit. She timidly followed what he was doing. The two shared the book's weight on their laps and turned the pages. When she saw the penguin, she giggled. "Isn't it so cute?" she asked. Simon agreed. He read a little bit, then pointed at a line of text. "Look-its says here that Emperor Penguins snuggle together when it's cold and they like one another." he read. She blushed and faced away. Simon had clearly picked it out for a reason, considering they were sitting so close. _I'm not afraid,_ he thought to himself. _They all think I am, b-but I'm not._ She held a thin book out to him nervously. "I-I was going to trade you this book for the encyclodpedia, but I think I like how we're doing it now." she said. Simon took the book. He flipped through the pages, which were full of pictures of puppies and kittens. "They're so adorable!" he exclaimed, both giggling. She began pointing things out to him; her neighbor had a dog that once looked like this puppy, she had a kitten that had almost the same coloration as this one, she wished for a puppy that looked like that one someday, etc. Simon glanced up at the clock after a long time of laughing about the cuteness of each picture. "Goodness!" he remarked. "It's getting late. I bet Mummy and Daddy are wondering where I am. Thank you for sharing your book with me. I really enjoyed spending time with you. Do you come to the library after dinner every day?" he asked. She nodded.  
"Yes, I usually do. Thanks for sharing the encyclopedia."  
"We should do this again. I liked it a lot."  
"I agree! I feel the same way."  
"Would…would you like to come to a dinner with me on Friday? I'll bring some books I have from home that we can read after, if you'd like."  
"Oh, that'd be great! Thank you very much! My name is Lucy by the way."  
"I'm Simon. It was really great meeting you. You're such a nice girl."

Lucy blushed, hiding her face behind the puppy book. Simon stood up. "Well, I'll see you on Friday." he said, giving her a gentle smile. She replied the same. He left the library feeling much better about himself and the dating situation in its entirety.


	11. The Date of Unpredictability

**Here it is: the chapter you've all been waiting for! The big date. I hope you enjoy it!**

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The boys decided on a restaurant that was in the middle of the city and could be easily accessed by all of them (including those who had to walk everywhere). Jack pushed his neatly parted hair back as they waited for the girls to meet them. Bill was trying to tie Robert's tie, but the two ended up accidentally making a noose instead and laughed hysterically about it. Maurice grabbed the noose-tie. "Give me that. I'm going to need it." he muttered. Simon held the books he'd brought along behind his back, hoping none of the others would see and tease him. He couldn't wait to see Lucy again. He wanted nothing to ruin this night.

Mary-Sue was the first to show up. She and Jack were obviously practiced at dating, which everyone picked up on as they greeted each other. Henry's girl, Leola, arrived next. Bill waved to Jane as she crossed the street and made her way over to him. Robert and Harold's girls, Rachel and Betsy respectively, greeted their little men with politeness, Harold and Betsy sharing a discrete wink though. Roger watched carefully as the ice skater named Annie came into view. He tapped Jack's arm, accidentally interrupting his flirting, and quickly asked, "Look alright?" Jack smiled and turned his attention fully to his friend. "You look perfect," he said sincerely. He wanted to make him feel good because it was just so clear that nobody at home had cared enough to help him get ready for his first date ever. Roger took a deep breath and kissed Annie's hand respectfully when she met him. Lucy was almost last to show. But she got the best greeting. Simon's father had bought a fresh red rose to let his son give to her. Simon's mother had parted his hair to the side, making him look even sweeter than usual. He knew his parents were proud of and happy for him, but he was just _so nervous_ himself!

After a few minutes of talking, the couples decided to go inside. Maurice grumbled, then shouted, "Wait! The weirdo isn't even here yet." Almost as if on cue, they heard rushed footsteps, a voice calling for Maurice faintly, then several car horns blaring. A figure was running right in the middle of the street, waving her arms, all the while begging to be waited for. Maurice sighed, disgruntled. "There she is. The woman of the hour." he muttered. She flung her arms around his neck and spun around upon seeing him. "Oh, Maurice! You look even more handsome than you do in your choir robe! Do you like my dress? I've never worn it before-I've been saving it for the day we'd finally go on a date!" she spilled out all at once. Maurice rolled his eyes. "Gorgeous," he replied sarcastically, practically causing Myrtle to faint with excitement.

Once they went inside, they took seats at a long table next to their dates. Simon pulled the chair out for Lucy, who blushed. Jack sat at the head of the table with Mary-Sue. Under the table, he kept his hand daringly on her slender leg. Rachel saw Simon politely pushing Lucy's chair closer to the table and cleared her throat. Her foot tapped. Robert looked up. "You going to sit down or what?" he asked, clueless. Harold kicked him under the table. Robert then keyed in and moved the chair back slightly with his foot for Rachel to sit in. She rolled her eyes and pulled it out herself. Harold pushed a curl off of Betsy's shoulder, remarking how beautiful she looked. She gigged, gently and playfully patting his hand. Henry and Leola instantly began looking over the menu, skipping the talk. He read from the left side. "The chicken sounds really good." he pointed out. Leola was reading from the right. "Yes, it does. But so does the vegetable quiche." she agreed.

"Ooh, you're right. Wish there was some way to get both."

"Me too,"

"Hey, I know what we'll do! I'll get the chicken, you get the quiche, and then we'll split the food in half and each make a plate of both!"

"That's brilliant!"

Henry put down his menu. "We know what we're getting!" he announced to the table, immediately reddening upon the realization that everyone was talking to their dates and no one had even picked up the menus yet.

Simon loved hearing the sound of Lucy's voice. He let her talk and tell stories and hear about animals. He would ask questions to keep the conversation going just so that she'd keep explaining and putting that beautiful melody into the air around him. He found himself smiling uncontrollably. She delicately held the rose in her fingertips, admiring it every so often. They were truly the happiest people at the table to be together.

Roger didn't say much to Annie, but she didn't really seem to mind. She talked plenty, that was for sure. Occasionally, he would glance nervously over to Jack for help or a clue as to what to say or do next. But most of the time, Jack was intently staring into Mary-Sue's eyes as she spoke softly and slowly rubbed his knuckles with her fingertips. After being ignored enough times, Roger gave up and just faced the tabletop as Annie talked because he was just so unsure of what to do.

Myrtle was nonstop. She had so many things to say, that she often forgot to take a breath and ending up drawing in a deep rush of air mid-sentence. Maurice was dying. He couldn't stand to hear one more quip about how much she loved him and adored their date together. She turned to look at the menu. Maurice grabbed the butter knife at the place-setting before him and actually pointed it at himself. He used his other hand to hold it back. _No… _he thought miserably. _Not yet._

Bill ordered Jane's food for her to impress her when the waitress came by. Jane blushed and giggled. They were getting along well; Bill was trying very hard to be a gentleman. Almost too hard. Which was probably why Jane laughed so much or giggled or turned red from actually trying to hold in laughter. But for poor Bill, he took these as good signs. _She must be very interested in me,_ he thought. _She thinks I'm smart, funny, respectful, and of course good looking!_

When everyone's meals came, the talking quieted only slightly. Annie, Myrtle, and Lucy still kept on as usual though. Simon didn't mind. He just focused on that _voice_. Rachel wasn't having a very good time. She rolled her eyes when Robert hungrily dug into his food. "You eat like an absolute animal!" she hissed. Robert looked at her, chewing, and shrugged. "I'm hungry," he said with his mouth full of potatoes. She remained displeased. Harold was having fun though. He and Betsy were getting along very well-he even fed her from his fork flirtatiously once or twice. Myrtle continued on her nonstop loop of talking even as she was eating. She and Maurice accidentally bumped elbows. He nudged her. "Do you mind? I'm trying to actually enjoy my dinner." he snapped. She could've cared less.

About halfway through dinner, Bill glanced up at Jack from his plate. "Hey, Jack! You've touched _her_ more than you've touched your food! You can at least bring the chicken home in a box; I don't think she'd fit in one though." he joked. Jack shot him a look that read, _I'm going to strangle you for that,_ and apologized for his choirboy's misbehavior to the female head-girl. Simon picked up his fork and took another bite of the pasta he'd ordered. He was beginning to feel lightheaded. _No, please not here-not tonight,_ he thought desperately. He didn't want his weakness to be revealed so early on in their date. Simon took a sip of water from the cup. He concentrated on breathing calmly. Lucy seemed to pick up on his uneasiness. "Simon…are you quite alright?" she asked quietly so as not to attract a lot of unwanted attention to him. He nodded. "Yes; I'm sorry." he replied. The dark spots started clouding his vision. _No, no, no!_ he thought. He unintentionally reached out and grabbed Lucy's arm to steady himself. His eyes rolled back into his head and he started to slump. Lucy lunged and held him back from falling face-first into his pasta. Everyone now turned and looked. She worriedly sat, mouth agape, and looked at the others for help. Maurice started laughing. "Told you he couldn't handle a date!" he giggled. Myrtle slapped his shoulder as a scolding. Jack turned to Lucy. "He'll be alright. This happens often. Just give him a few minutes." he calmly explained.

Lucy couldn't keep calm. She was worried about Simon and didn't understand why no one else was alarmed. She turned him gently and laid him sideways across the chair, cradling his head on her lap. Roger, who had been sitting next to Simon, put the boy's feet on his lap so he could fully lie down. He wordlessly used his napkin to fan Simon's face. "Talk to me, Simon." Lucy pleaded, remembering all the books she'd read about the tragic death of a prince before he could make a girl his princess. "Please, Simon." she whispered. Roger didn't speak, just kept fanning the small boy. She glanced between the two. He noticed, but chose not to get too involved. After a few minutes, Simon began to stir. He confusedly sat up, rubbing his forehead and looking around. Lucy stared at him as he came to. He gasped and looked her in the eyes.

Simon felt incredible shame wash over him. He fumbled nervously with his napkin and gazed at the tablecloth. "I-I…" he began, but couldn't finish. Lucy gently pressed the glass of water up to his lips and held it for him as he took a sip. She dabbed his face with her napkin. He wasn't really sure what to say-she seemed to be acting fine. He decided to just be honest right off the bat. "I-I'm sorry," he whispered. "I get fainting spells sometimes. We don't know why. I'm sorry…you can leave me whenever you want. You deserve someone strong and normal." he said despondently. But to his surprise, Lucy put her hand over his. She smiled sweetly. "Simon," she quietly said, her glasses gleaming. "I'd never leave because of something like that. _You_ deserve to be taken care of." Simon grinned and squeezed her fingertips lightly. She was perfect.

Later on, things started to get bad again. Jack and Mary-Sue were doing absolutely great of course. They barely ate anything, they were so focused on each other. It made others wonder if they'd ever been together before, the way they were so interested and close to each other. But for Robert, it was a different story. Rachel outright (and rather loudly) told him that he was a terrible date and acted like a five-year-old. She said that the only reason she was still even sitting next to him was because her sister was having a good time with Harold and didn't want to leave. Roger really got it from Annie too. As everyone ate, they heard silverware clink down onto a plate loudly. Everyone looked in the direction of the sound.

Annie was staring at Roger incredulously. He remained looking down at the tabletop. "You are the most boring person I believe I've ever met in my entire life." she stated in annoyed disbelief. He sat still. "I've been talking this whole time, hoping to say something that would strike up a conversation with you, but you remain completely silent. I thought when I first met you that you needed some cheering up. You need a lot more than just cheering up, let me tell you. And you can start by wearing better clothes. Honestly, it looks like you're a baby doll dressed up in a man's clothing. Your hair is nothing short of a mess! This is probably the worst date I've personally ever been on." she snapped. Annie stood up abruptly and threw her napkin onto the table. "I do think you're very sweet somewhere in there, but there's too much ambiguity about you. You need to work on your social skills." she said. Immediately, she turned and walked out the door. Roger's jaw fell open slightly. He never looked up from the tabletop. Jack knew that this just might send him overboard. He made eye contact with Bill (who was sitting beside the dark-haired boy) and motioned with his eyes to take the knife off of Roger's place-setting. Bill secretively reached over and pretended to rearrange the napkin, meanwhile slipping the knife under the table and onto his lap where Roger couldn't get to it. Roger didn't do anything. He sat there. Nobody talked. Maurice started giggling and was about to crack a joke, but Robert swiftly kicked him under the table. After a long while of staring, Roger opened his mouth slightly. "I…" he started. He shut his mouth tightly. Not another sound came from him.

At the end of the dinner, Myrtle was obviously getting tired. Maurice inwardly rejoiced. The boys all paid for their girls' dinner and they began leaving the restaurant. Simon gingerly took Lucy's hand once outside. "I'll walk you home," he offered. She nodded and giggled. Robert faced Rachel outside. "Sorry I'm a terrible date," he apologized. She sighed. "No, it's not your fault. Maybe I was a little harsh. You just still have some growing up to do. I'll tell you what: maybe in a few months or so, we'll start talking again. Maybe then you'll be a little bit more mature. Does that sound ok?" she asked. Robert nodded. They smiled at each other. Harold bid goodbye to Betsy and promised to keep in touch with her via romantic letters. Bill dramatically hugged Jane goodbye. She was grinning ear to ear, which pleased him, but she didn't mean for it to. He was just so overboard that it was funny. Henry thanked Leola for sharing half her food with him and she returned it. That was really all, because they acted like friends for majority of the night.

Jack took Mary-Sue's arm and began leading her towards _his_ home. Some boys whispered about it, but came to the conclusion that since Jack was oldest and so was his date, it was alright. After all, they were both almost fourteen. Roger watched Jack and Mary-Sue leave in one direction, and Simon and Lucy leave in the other. He thought for a moment. Then he took a step and started the long trek home.

Maurice walked home with Myrtle, staying on the very edge of the sidewalk so they didn't have to walk close. She was surprisingly quieter on the way back. She had to get tired some time. He left her on her doorstep, but as he turned to walk down the steps, she called out to him. "Maurice, thank you for tonight. I know it might've been tedious for you, especially since all of your friends were there, but you made me very happy." she sincerely said. Maurice felt a little better about things. Maybe it wasn't all too bad, dating that is. Perhaps Myrtle wasn't the best suit for him, but he wasn't as against going out as he was before the dinner. He waved his hand saying "Eh, it was nothin'." and going next door to his own house.

Simon walked Lucy up the steps to her house and waited with her there for a moment. He relished holding her hands in his. "I hope you like the books I gave you. I tried to pick the ones with the best pictures." he said nervously. She giggled. "Oh thank you, Simon. You're so sweet," was Lucy's reply. They looked into each other's eyes for a long time. Simon cleared his throat. "Well, I'd best be going. I had a great night. A great night with you, that is."  
"I-I had a wonderful night, Simon. Thank you for everything. I'll…I'm going to save this rose forever."

Simon wasn't sure what compelled him to act next. It wasn't out of lust or dare from the other boys, nor was it elicited by the teasing or lack of self-worth. It just happened because his heart told him to do it.

He leaned forward and put a gentle kiss right on Lucy's lips.

It didn't last long; still it had all of his emotion behind it. She had a very surprised look on her face after, but it was a pleasant one. The pair blushed madly and bid goodnight. Lucy slipped inside the house. Simon swooned on the doorstep, thinking about that wonderful feeling. And just how much she liked him in return. He hopped down the steps and practically skipped all the way home.


	12. Mixing Families

**This was part of a request from Just Your Average Writer Here. I would like to thank them so much for their idea! This was a lot of fun to write. I hope it kinda tugs at your heartstrings a little. Sorry if it gets depressing, but I had to move it along. Can't wait to hear what you all have to think! Suggestions or ideas for more stories are welcome as always! :)**

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Simon Louis walked home from choir practice rather slowly that Thursday afternoon. Something was bothering him in the back of his mind; it had gripped him in its talons and refused to let him free. He climbed the steps to his home and opened the door. He walked inside the nice big house. Simon set his schoolbag on the dining room chair and hung his robe and hat upon the coat stand. Footsteps came down the stairs. "There's my sweetie!" his mother called, holding a laundry basket against her hip. She dropped the linens and pulled him into a hug. As always, she lifted him into the air and spun him around, kissing his cheek. Simon giggled a little. He tried to smile. His mother picked up on his feelings of uneasiness. "Is everything alright, sweetie?" she asked. He nodded, trying to grin cheerfully. Mrs. Louis could see through the mask. "What happened today? Are the kids making fun of you again?"

"No, they're fine, Mummy. It's just been sort of a strange day." he replied. His mother took his little hand and with her free one pushed on his back gently as they made their way to the sofa. He hopped up onto the cushions and snuggled close to his mother once she took a seat. "Deary, what's the matter? You never come home like this." she cooed. Simon sighed. "My friend told me something today that just scared me a little."

"…And….what was it?"

"Well, what I mean is…it made me scared for them personally."

"Was it Lucy?"

"No. It was a boy in choir."

"Oh, I see. And you're afraid for him?"

"Yes. He said that things at home are getting bad. He wants to leave it all. But…then he said the thing that scared me."

"What did he say next?"

Simon's eyes filled with tears as he thought about the terror in the images that came to mind when his friend had brought up the subject. He buried his face into his mother's chest. She gave him a loving hug and told him that it was alright. Simon sniffled and looked up. "He said…that it would be better if he died and that he wants to kill himself to get away from it." he said tearfully. Simon's mother froze looking at her son. _A twelve-year-old boy is saying all this,_ she thought. She could understand why Simon was so upset. He wiped his eyes. "Then he told me all…all the ways he could do it. He said he had some rope in the back of the house that he could tie into a noose and hang himself with. Or he said he could take a knife up into his room and stab himself. Or he said he'd take a lot of medicine all at once so his body would just shut down. Or he wanted to climb onto the roof and jump off so he'd smash all his bones and die there." Simon was sobbing again by the time he'd finished with his list. Mrs. Louis wrapped her arms around him and rocked him gently. She held him on her lap. "Oh baby, it's alright. He won't do-"

"But he would! I know he would! He's so sad all the time and he doesn't talk to anyone except me and occasionally Jack, but he doesn't tell Jack half the things he tells me because Jack is too busy a lot of the time since he's head-boy and older than us. He'd do it, Mummy. And I'm afraid he's going to do it someday and not tell anyone! Then for days he'll be absent and nobody will know why and then it'll come out that they found his bones somewhere and I won't have the chance to _stop him!_"

Simon didn't know why he was crying so hard, but he was. His mother let him cry for a while, just rocking and hushing him gently. He clearly needed to get these feelings out. After a long while of sniffling, she whispered, "Who is the boy you're afraid for?" Simon rubbed his eyes and smoothed out her tearstained sleeve. "Roger," he whimpered. "He told me all this at choir practice today. I didn't know who to report it to-Jack was the only supervisor left on campus, and I knew he wouldn't do much about it. _Mummy_…"

Mrs. Louis nodded slowly. She kissed the top of his head. "You did the right thing, sweetie." she whispered. A few more minutes of silence passed. She knew she was going to talk about this with her husband once he got home from work, but something had to pacify Simon for the time being. She rubbed her son's small shoulders. "How would you like to use the telephone to call him? And you could invite him for a playdate tomorrow afternoon after choir practice. That way you'd be giving him something to look forward to and he'll be happier. Does that sound alright?" she came up with. Simon nodded. He dried his eyes with the handkerchief she pulled out of her pocket and took a few deep breaths to calm down.

His mother went to the phone and got the operator to connect them to Roger's home telephone. It rang several times before a small voice answered. She handed the phone to Simon. "Hi, Roger." Simon said.

"Hi,"

"It's Simon,"

"Oh,"

"I was just wondering if you were ok,"

"I am,"

"Hey, would you like to come home with me after practice tomorrow? We could have a playdate. That's what Mummy called it. It would be a lot of fun."

There seemed to be some fuzzing coming from the other end of the phone, which could possible have indicated movement, and then there came a sigh. "Yes," Roger said. "I would like that a lot." Simon smiled. "That's great. I can't wait then. Make sure you're there tomorrow. I mean, be sure to look forward to it. We'll have a good time,"

"Alright,"

"So I'll see you tomorrow at school, right?"

"Yes,"

"Do you promise?"

"Yes,"

"Don't break a promise on me, Roger."

"I won't,"

"Alright. I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Tomorrow,"

"Goodbye,"

"Bye,"

Simon hung up the phone. He looked up at his mother, who was smiling sadly. "He promised he'd be at school tomorrow. I made him tell me that he wouldn't break his promise." Simon summarized. She nodded and pulled him into another hug. He gently rubbed his small hands on her swelling stomach to appease himself. Simon let out a sigh of relief. At least he'd given his friend something to look forward to. At least he had that promise that everything would be normal for at least one more day.

Later that night, Mr. and Mrs. Louis were tucking him into bed together as they always did. Mrs. Louis snuggled Simon's favorite stuffed bear close to his face and made a kissing sound. The boy giggled and hugged it. His father pulled the blankets close to his neck. "We love you, Simon." he whispered. Each parent then kissed him, one on each side, simultaneously. He yawned sleepily. "I love you both so much. Goodnight Mummy. Goodnight Daddy." he said. He bent forward and kissed his mother's stomach. "Goodnight little baby I'll be meeting very soon." He whispered this as if it was some sort of personal prayer. The man and the woman joined hands and stepped quietly out of the room as their son fell asleep. Mr. Louis shut the door quietly behind them.

When it was time for the two of them to go to bed, they climbed in beside each other and huddled close. "Simon's got a friend coming over tomorrow afternoon." Mrs. Louis said. "Is that so? A friend from choir?" Mr. Louis asked.

"Yes; the one we bought the cookies for."  
"The sad one,"  
"…Yes. Actually…Simon came home very upset today because of this boy."  
"He isn't bothering him, is he?"  
"Oh not at all. But apparently the kid said he wanted to kill himself and made a list of all the ways he could do it. Simon got very scared and actually had to call him on the telephone to make sure he was alright."  
"The boy said he wanted to kill himself?"  
"Because 'home' was so bad."

Simon's father thought for a moment or two. "We'll watch him when he comes over tomorrow. I'd hate to send such a sweet boy back to a terrible place." he said. The woman agreed. The two kissed each other and bid goodnight.

The next day, Simon and Roger came home after practice. They seemed to be having a good time-Roger began to open up a little more after a while. Mrs. Louis watched them play out in the backyard from the kitchen window. Roger had a nervous tic. That was clear. There were some signs of physical abuse on him-the bruises; several baby teeth missing prematurely, causing scabs on the gums; the overgrown dark hair; the thinness of his frame. If there was a loud sound of sudden movement, he'd flinch badly. Sometimes he'd look around nervously for no reason. But he seemed very happy around Simon.

Simon's mother called the boys in from playing outside to eat dinner. She hadn't asked Roger if he was going to stay for dinner, because she knew that if he went home before, he probably wouldn't eat anything until school lunch on Monday. Simon's father walked in the door as she set the food on the table. "Just in time!" he laughed, kissing his wife as a greeting. Roger was watching intently, as if this were new to him. Mr. Louis reached down and took the boy's hand, shaking it gently. "I remember you from the bake sale," he said gently. Roger had panic in his eyes. He watched as the man let go of his hand and pat his head very softly. The family sat down at the table and bowed their heads to pray.

Mrs. Louis looked up when she saw one of the chairs wasn't occupied. Roger was standing in a corner, watching the family from a distance. "Come here, Roger." she coaxed gently. "You can come eat with us,"

"I shouldn't," he replied quickly.

"Why not, sweetie?"

"It's your food. Not mine. I'm a guest. I'm bad."

The last line shocked her a little.

She stood up and led him over to the table, making sure he was seated with food in front of him. After they said their blessing, they began to eat. Roger took very small bites. He seemed to be afraid to just eat like normal. The mother and father glanced at each other throughout the meal.

When it came to be late, Simon approached his parents. "May Roger stay the night?" he asked. "He said he's sure his father wouldn't mind. Would you mind at all?"  
"No, deary. I think that's wonderful." his mother replied. Simon took Roger upstairs to his room and the two began making a small bed on the floor. Mr. Louis went over to the pregnant woman with papers in his hand. "I went to the city board today, asking if there was something they could do about suspected child abuse." He handed her the papers. "They suggested…that we foster him for a little bit." Simon's mother gasped a little. She didn't quite understand. "But…what will we say to his father-"

"They said that if we present him with these papers and tell him that we're protecting his son from self-harm and potential asylum incarceration, we can take him in. Legally."

"We…we should talk to the boys about this first. I'm all for the idea. But Roger…Roger's the one that's going to be most affected."

"That's a good idea,"

At bedtime they sat both boys on the same bed together, and they themselves sat across from them. Mrs. Louis explained the whole operation, with legality help from Mr. Louis. Simon was in love with the idea. He gripped Roger's arm and whispered, "We'll be like brothers for a little while!" Roger looked very confused and very scared. "Father…" he whispered. The man took his hand. "He'll…be very angry…" Roger continued. Both parents shook their heads. "We have something we will tell him that's going to make him less upset." the woman explained lightly. "It's up to you, son." Mr. Louis said. "You're the one that gets the most affected. And if you…if you want to say…no…then that's alright, I suppose." He regretted saying the last part. He didn't want Roger to choose going back to that place. Roger was very silent for a long time. The mother reached over and touched his shoulder. "We know what you planned on doing. We know how badly you wanted to get out." she confessed. He froze. His eyes squeezed shut and he nodded. "Please…" he whispered. "Don't make me…go back…"

And that was that. The next morning, Mr. Louis went by the city board again to certify the fostering papers, and then went across town to the boy's house. He told the half-drunken man the details, and that their family was saving him the money and trouble of Roger getting locked up in a mental institution. The man surprisingly agreed to let the kid go. It angered Simon's father when the drunkard slurred, "I never liked the kid anyway. He's your problem now." He gathered Roger's clothes and important items and put them in his car, thanking the rude man half-heartedly. The only thing that prevented him from losing him temper on the poor excuse of a man was the fact that he knew Roger was going to be safe from then on.

Once he returned home, Simon and Roger were waiting on the steps. Roger approached Mr. Louis timidly, asking with his eyes what his father had said. Mr. Louis patted his head gently. "He allowed you to stay here," he said in short, figuring the boy already knew how much he wasn't loved there. Roger breathed a sigh of relief. He helped bring his items into the house and put them in a corner of Simon's neat room. Simon was almost bursting. "This is going to be great! It's like a playdate, but extended!" he giggled. Roger gave a half-smile. "I can't…thank you enough." he whispered. Simon's smile faded. He took his friend's hands. "You don't have to thank us. Ever. We're doing this for you because we want to-because we care about you. We…" He let his voice trail off there, because Roger had tears in his eyes. He looked at the ground. "Y-You told them…" he breathed.

"Told them about what?"

"H-How…I wanted to commit suicide…"

"…I was so scared for you, Roger."

"Honestly, I…was going to do it that very night. And then…you…called…"

Roger broke down, letting the tears fall from his eyes. He didn't sob or make any noise actually. Just let the tears wash down his face. Simon hugged him. "We love you," he whispered.

The two parents were standing in the doorway, unnoticed by the boys, holding hands. Mrs. Louis looked up at her husband. They exchanged a smile, knowing they'd truly done the right thing.


	13. Air Raid

**Just a small one for the time being. I love hearing all of your ideas. Thank you so much. I hope you like this one and that all of these are keeping you interested and wanting to read. The boys send hugs and kisses! 3**

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It was history again, the class majority of the choir had together. The first half of the hour was dedicated to a lecture about the Great Wall of China from the teacher. Maurice had fallen asleep sitting up (which was by no means unusual). Nobody bothered him…until he accidentally let out a very loud snore that caused the whole room of boys to whip their heads around and stare at whoever made the miraculously funny noise. Even the teacher stared at the sleeping boy in shock. Maurice still sat upright, head leaned all the way back, mouth agape as he napped. Jack looked horrified that one of _his boys_ had caused such a disgusting act and drawn all the negative attention. He reached across Bill's space on the table to sharply smack Maurice's arm. Maurice's head shot up in reaction, his eyes half open. "What's it…?" he asked sleepily. Everyone started laughing. The teacher began writing a note home (which again, was by no means unusual for Maurice) with a cross look on his face. Jack glared at his choirboy.

The teacher walked up to Maurice's desk slowly and dramatically. Bill, who was sitting beside him, was squealing with laughter while desperately trying to hold it in. The teacher handed the note to Maurice. "I expected it signed by a parent and returned to my desk tomorrow. No exceptions." he said slowly and very sternly. Maurice took the note. "Yes, sir." he agreed softly. His face reddened. Bill gasped loudly for air between stifled laughs.

As the teacher walked back to the front of the room, a loud blaring siren sounded, causing everyone to jump. They knew all too well what this meant. The teacher whirled around. "Air raid! Air raid! Everybody under the desks! Cover your heads! Duck-and-cover! Hide yourselves! Say your prayers! Remember the duck-and-cover method we learned! Get down! I said _get down_! Quickly! _Quickly!_" he shouted in absolute terror. Some boys screamed shrilly as they dove under the tables. Maurice and Bill flung themselves under the desk and clung to each other in fear. Jack yanked Simon down to the floor. Robert had tears running down his face. Harold covered his ears as the sound of explosions outside the building began to shake the floor. Henry bit his nails. Simon grabbed for Roger and caught his collar as they fell to the floor. He instinctively covered the back of his head and neck as soon as they made it under the table. Simon felt someone pulling at him to move. He looked up with eyes of fear and saw Jack gathering Roger into his arms and trying to get Simon nearer too so he could also protect him. The smaller boy allowed himself to be moved. He felt Jack spread one arm around him and lean his head close. Roger was wrapped under the other arm. Simon felt tears start running down his own face too. So many images flooded his mind; his house, Mummy and Daddy, Lucy, the library, Roger, Jack, the school, the park, all the cars and bikes riding on the streets, the church, the steeple. He saw smoke. He saw blood.

Jack clung to both boys tightly. He couldn't let anything happen to these two. It wasn't like he didn't care about his other boys-he was actually extremely worried for all of them at the moment. But he knew Simon was probably feeling very emotional and on the verge of fainting, so he made a grab for him to keep his body safe. And Roger…oh, _Roger_. He just needed someone-anyone-that would love him. Jack felt tears of his own start to force themselves into his eyes when he thought about the situation they were in. It was incredibly frightening. Bombs blew up everywhere. The ground shook. Desks rattled. The unpredictability of each drop made him feel nauseas. They could all be blown up in just a matter of seconds. No duck-and-cover could stop one of those from killing a whole classroom full of little English boys.

Simon felt someone stroking desperately at his hand. Bony fingers were trying so hard to tangle themselves with his own. Roger. Simon grasped the tiny hand and squeezed it, more tears coming down. He saw that the other bony hand was grasping Jack's too. The sounds that weren't drowned out by the sirens, the explosions, the whistling of displaced air with every bomb, the drones of loud fighter plane engines from the sky were mainly wailing young boys screaming in terror or calling for their mummies. Everything was an absolute whirlwind for excruciating amounts of time.

Several long minutes passed before the sound of bombs stopped. The sirens ceased. The screaming had been reduced to sniveling. The all-clear bell from the church tower rang three times. Everyone slowly began to come out of hiding, white-faced and clinging to one another. Jack gave Simon's shoulders a squeeze as the smaller boy began to emerge from beneath the table. Roger wouldn't leave. He was shaking violently, hands held out in front of him, eyes searching them nervously as if he'd had something to do with the attack. Jack tried pulling him, but Roger dug his nails into Jack's forearm. He was breathing quickly. The look on his face registered nothing but sheer panic. Jack slipped out from under the desk first, never letting Roger go, then eased him out gently. He held Roger in his arms as the dark-haired boy clung to him, sniffling and whimpering.

The choirboys all gathered together into one big hug, putting aside all differences for just a brief moment. The teacher came out from under his desk. "Children," he addressed, voice hoarse from both yelling so many instructions and screaming in terror. "When you go home tonight, tell your parents just how much you love them. Times…are so _very_ unpredictable now…"

That very night, Jack put his pajamas on and went to his room. He heard his younger sister about to climb into bed from the next room over. He went through her door and stopped her just before she got snuggled in, giving the kindergartener a warm hug without words. She hugged him back, not really understanding why all of a sudden her big brother was feeling so loving towards her. Jack then left the room, still silent, and did the same to his parents. They, however, understood.

Simon and Roger were about ready to go to bed. They'd given up sleeping separately-one on the bed and one on the floor. After several weeks during Roger's adjustment period, he climbed into bed beside Simon and slept there. It made him a little uncomfortable, considering they weren't biological brothers and that it wasn't the same as sleeping beside William. But he was trying. He really wanted to adjust to his new family and new life. So he often found himself doing things that made him temporarily uncomfortable. Mr. and Mrs. Louis entered the room and saw both boys sitting in bed together. Roger was wearing a pair of Simon's pajamas, which fit alright, but made him look so tiny. He hadn't spoken a word since the air raid. The parents sat on the bed to talk about what happened that day and what it meant. They finished explaining, Simon nodding sadly and Roger looking down. Both parents kissed each boy goodnight and tucked them in. It was so clear how visibly disturbed the dark-haired boy was. The mother nudged her husband's arm. "How about we take a field trip this weekend-just the four of us. We'll go to an animal shelter. There's lots of cute things there that love to get attention. Maybe that'll cheer everyone up a bit." she suggested, Mr. Louis nodding. Both boys perked at that, giving small smiles and agreeing to go.

Maurice figured that after the day's catastrophes, he probably wouldn't be penalized for not bringing the signed note of misbehavior back to class the next day. So he kept it in his backpack. When he was walking home however, Myrtle did not greet him as she usually did. She was somber and obviously upset. Of course, that didn't stop her from giving him one of her famous big hugs. But she held on for longer than usual. And there wasn't much strength behind it. Maurice felt something tugging at his insides, so he sighed and asked, "What's the matter, Myrtle?" She also let out a sigh. "I was thinking about you a lot during school today," By school, he knew she meant the air raid. "and I was really hoping you were alright. I…was worried. Honest." she refused to look up at him out of…_embarrassment_? This confused Maurice. She never had any shame for anything she did. He recognized the seriousness. He dropped his hand on her shoulder. "I know. I…thought about you too. Just for a minute. But I'm alright, and so are you, and our schools and homes weren't damaged. So everything's fine." he said. She nodded and blinked, trying to smile. He brought her to her house next door and let her inside. He made sure she was safely in before closing the door. Then he went to his own house, wondering what in the world he'd just felt.


	14. Ice Cream

**Just a quick one while I'm between ideas. :) Hope you like this as much as the boys like their ice cream! 3 (note: after reading this, what do you think of the characters? Am I focusing too much on Simon, Roger, Jack, or Maurice? I just want to know so that I'm not boring you guys with the same old characters/themes. Let me know somehow if you don't like something or want to see more of it. It helps me so much)**

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It was very warm one day after choir practice, and all the boys were walking home together as usual. Bill fanned himself with his hands. "_God _it's hot out," he complained. Murmurs of agreement came from the others. Their black cloaks weren't making things better for them. Robert faced the sky. "Why do you do this to us, oh great and powerful sun?!" he cried dramatically. Some boys laughed, others found it too hot to react. Henry stopped short as they walked along the sidewalk, catching their attention. He pointed up ahead. "Look!" he gasped.

Everyone followed the direction of his index finger and saw a man standing near a cart along the sidewalk. They all knew what this meant. Maurice bounced up and down. "Ice cream!" he whooped happily. All of the boys immediately grinned. They began tugging at each other's robes and talking all at once, mainly asking Jack if they could all go get in line for a cone. Annoyed by the heat and rapidly jabbering boys, he told them to all go to the stand and prepare their allowance money as long as they didn't wander. Everyone clapped and ran at full speed towards the line at the ice cream cart.

Simon swayed a bit as he and Roger stepped into line. "It's hot…" he murmured. Bill turned around. "Did you just notice, Batty?" he asked sarcastically, causing some other boys around him to giggle. Roger put a hand on Simon's shoulder after give Bill a death stare. "We can just go home. I don't mind." he said quickly. Simon shook his head dazedly. "No…we can get ice cream. I'll be okay," he assured.  
"…I don't want any. We'll come back later. Let's get you home."  
"No…I'll be fine, Roge. I can stay in line. I-Ice cream is so good too…"

Simon tried to laugh. Roger didn't let go of his arm. "Let me know if you're going to fall." he said. "I'll catch you." Simon held onto his foster brother's arm too. Maurice was overly excited he couldn't contain it, which concerned Jack, because after adding sugar into his hyper equation he'd only be more uncontrollable. He couldn't even settle on one flavor to choose-he kept going back and forth between at least three. Bill ordered a cone of chocolate ice cream. Robert ordered peppermint. Harold decided upon lemon, while Henry followed the fruit trend and stuck with strawberry. Maurice literally had to keep moving back in line because he was so indecisive about the flavor he wanted. Jack ordered chocolate-chip in a cone and demanded Maurice to settle down and "pick a bloody flavor already, you're twelve years old and should be able to decide for yourself". Maurice went with caramel swirl.

Roger and Simon chose the same flavor, Simon deciding his first. They ordered together and paid with a combination of their allowance money. The man handed each boy a cone of vanilla ice cream. Everyone went over to the nearby park fountain and sat on the edge of the cool water, enjoying their frozen treats. They chattered and laughed. It was actually quite a good time. Jack didn't really have to scold any of their sugar-fueled behavior, save for the one time he caught Henry and Robert trying to throw Bill into the fountain by his arms.

Simon took a few licks of his ice cream. Sweat was pouring off of him, yet he had to keep his black robe on because everyone else did, and the fabric identified their high esteem. Roger watched the two boys trying to throw Bill in, and secretly wished they'd all slip and go splashing into the water. Simply because it'd be amusing to watch. He suddenly felt a thump from beside him and realized his new brother had fainted right there on the grass. The cone of melting ice cream had fallen onto the perfect black cloth. Jack pulled it off and threw the mess into the grass, using some of Harold's napkins to dab at the fabric. Roger became suddenly furious. He felt near exploding again. It wasn't until Maurice made a joke about "Batty" being incapable that he lost it.

Roger stood up and faced them. "Y-You ought be ashamed of yourselves! Simon faints, and the only thing you care about is the bloody robe he's wearing?! Not even that if he's alright?! Bad. You all are so bad. Even worse than…than _me!_" he spat. Jack stopped cleaning the garment and backed up a bit. Nobody spoke. Roger knelt down beside his brother and faced the ground. After a few moments, Henry approached them slowly. He damped a napkin in the fountain and placed it carefully across Simon's forehead, all the while watching Roger. Jack also began untying the black robe and removing the frill from the fainted boy's blazing body. Sooner or later, every boy was doing something to help Simon; they folded his soiled choir robe, wrapped his hands in wet napkins, or gently fanned air onto his face. Anything to help. Nobody wanted to hear that they were worse people than Roger.

Simon's eyes fluttered open. Everyone backed up a bit and slowly started resuming their normal conversations. When Simon was sitting up and fully awake, Roger handed him the ice cream he was eating. Simon shook his head. "No, Roge. That one's yours." he tried to say. But Roger made him close his fingers around the waffle cone. He gave the tiniest hint of smile. "Thank you," Simon whispered, giving his shoulders a small hug. Roger looked down. "Shared with _you_ this time." he said quickly.

Once everyone was finished, they all began to part ways and head home, their little bellies full of cold treats. As Simon and Roger began to walk to their house, Jack ran after them, calling for them to stop for a moment. Once he caught up to them, he looked at Simon. "Are you alright now?" he asked. Simon nodded, thanking him for his concern. "We were worried about you. We cared," the redhead assured. He turned to Roger. A few seconds of silence passed. "You're not…you're not _bad_, Roger." he said simply. Words left him during the formation of that sentence in his brain. Simon looked between the two, clearly confused, but only his foster brother would understand. He sighed. "But I'm certainly not good." It took a few moments of no speaking for the words to really hit Jack hard. Roger gave Jack a wave goodbye, tried to fake a smile, and led Simon to keep walking by grabbing his wrist.


	15. Field Trip to the Farm

**Hello! I thought this idea might be a fun one. It's pretty happy-nothing too dark or sad or anything. I figured maybe the story needs something like this every now and then. I hope you laugh and aw and smile as you read it! :)**

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Jack, the other choirboys, and a few other kids from their religion class all sat on a bus that was driving them away from the city one spring afternoon. They were on the road to a field trip to a farm out in the countryside. Everyone on the bus was chatting away, excited to see the animals and learn about life outside of a city. Jack was supposed to be sitting beside Maurice, but the hyperactive boy was kneeling on the seat backwards, nonstop jabbering to Bill the whole time. Jack saw no boy's face beside him, only a rump.

The bus began to pull up on a dusty road leading up to a small farmhouse that had a barn, a chicken coop, and a vast area of land behind it. The class full of jovial boys hopped off the bus and stood in front of it all. They took in the warmth of the sun on their faces, the gentle breeze that blew, the peaceful scenery, and the smell of hay. Maurice was bouncing again, so before they took another step, Jack put both hands firmly on the boy's small shoulders to hold him to the ground for a few seconds. "Don't do anything stupid. Do you hear me?" he asked. Maurice nodded. As soon as Jack released him from his strong grip though, he bolted off in front of everyone to get there first.

The owner of the farm came out to meet them all. Every boy shook his hand politely. The choirboys weren't wearing their black cloaks and hats, because they were afraid they'd get soiled around the animals. Jack felt naked without his gold badge to signify that he was in control. Simon felt a lot better though, because it was a delightful temperature without the heavy fabric. The farmer explained briefly everything that happened on the farm, and began listing some of the animals they'd see. He waved with his arm for them to all follow him towards the barn.

Inside the cooler stable there were three cows, two horses, and four goats. The farmer named them all off. "The cows are named Betty-Sue, Nancy, and Dean. The two horses are boy and girl-their names are Willow and Dancer." the man explained. Henry's hand went in the air. The man addressed him. "Why is one named Dancer?" Henry asked. The man chuckled. "Because when he was a foal, all he ever did was prance around as if he heard music in the air!"

The farmer went around to the pen of goats and sheep and letting the gate swing open, allowed for the strange animals to come out and meet the boys. Immediately, everyone broke out into chatter about the animals. A very tiny white lamb stumbled over towards Simon, who knelt down and petted its head gently. The farmer crouched beside him. "That's out newest little addition. Just born about a month ago. She's still learning how to walk all by herself. She seems to like you," he said. Simon smiled. "She's very adorable, sir. Does she have a name yet?" the boy asked.  
"No, she doesn't. Haven't thought of one for her yet. Boy, is she a bright one though. She hears every sound, sees every little fly. So gentle and timid. She's definitely one of a kind. She really seems taken to you. Maybe…you'd like to help me out with giving her a name?" the man raised his voice at the end like a question. Simon smiled. He thought about everything the man had described the little lamb to be. Smart, beautiful, observant, gentle, timid. One name came to mind. "Does Lucy sound like a good name?" he asked. The man nodded. "I think that's a fine name. Lucy it is." he smiled. Simon grinned back. He couldn't wait to get back home and tell his own Lucy about the little lamb.

Some of the boys in the class gathered around the farmer's wife who was milking a cow and offered to show them the process. The boys were fascinated with the idea that that's where their morning glass of milk came from. Robert was even more awed with the fact that when the farmer's wife milked a brown cow, it didn't come out as chocolate milk. When he verbalized his realization, everyone let out a laugh. The teacher of the class looked away in embarrassment.

The boys next followed the farmer over to the chicken coop. As they walked out of the barn and past the grazing sheep, the kindly man filled their heads with more farm facts. Suddenly, a harsh screaming sound came from the back of the group. Roger sprang into the air and hit the ground, covering his head and curling into a fetal position. Everyone stared. Bill looked around wildly. "What in the bloody heck was that _screech?!_" he asked. The farmer laughed a little. "Oh, I'm sorry boys! I forgot to warn you about the goats. Sometimes instead of making their usual baa-baa sound, it comes out as something that resembles a human scream. Naturally. Guess I should've warned you all about that." he explained. Everyone began laughing again. Jack and Simon went to Roger, who was still shaking on the ground, and helped him up. Simon gently brushed the dust off his shirt. He murmured reassuring words to his foster brother. Roger stayed close to Jack's chest and allowed for himself to be hugged. His face was paler than ever. "I…" he tried to say. Jack leaned in to hear the faint voice better. "…I…decided that I hate goats." he whimpered. Jack chuckled a bit. They continued on into the chicken coop, Roger still being tucked away in Jack's arms and cowering from his sudden fright.

Once inside the small wooden house, the farmer's wife passed around a couple fresh chicken eggs for each boy to examine. She went on explaining where chickens laid their eggs and how special each one was. "Every egg that you're touching holds a little baby chick inside. It's too young to actually look like a bird though. But someday it'll hatch and be very fuzzy and yellow." she told them. Maurice gently passed a spotted brown egg to Bill, smiling widely at the thought of a fluffy little bird inside. Once the egg was out of his own hands and safely in Bill's, Maurice folded his arms across his chest and took a step backward. Immediately, there came a sickening _crack! _Maurice froze, eyes wide as saucers. Bill looked at him, just as shocked. "Did you just…?" He couldn't even bear to say it. The skinny boy nodded. "I think so. I think I just stepped on one." he whispered in response. Very hesitantly, the boys lowered their eyes to Maurice's shoe. The farmer's wife caught them. "Is everything alright?" she asked sweetly. Maurice's eyes automatically filled with tears. He started weeping in shame and despair. "I-I'm sorry! I didn't even realize it was behind me! I just moved one centimeter and then…then we heard a crack! I'm _sorry!_" he wailed. Both the farmer and his wife went over to the two to inspect. While the woman tried to calm Maurice, the man looked at the boy's foot. He began to laugh. "It's alright, son. You didn't hurt a thing. You only stepped on an old eggshell. There wasn't anything actually alive in it-the baby already hatched!" he told the whimpering boy. Maurice looked down. It was true, he'd only stepped on half of a broken eggshell. Nothing was harmed. His face reddened at the fact that he'd just cried in front of everyone for nothing. Nervously, he gave a giggle.

The woman held up a big rooster. "This rooster," she explained. "likes to show everyone who's boss. His name's Jack-he's the biggest and most in charge around here. He puts the other chickens in their place and all the female chickens love him." Harold nudged Henry. "Sounds about right," he muttered to the chuckling boy. However, Jack heard this and gave the back of his head a quick whap. The boys then had free time to go visit any other animals they wished and pet anything. Some went back to the horses and cows. Others stayed around the goats. Roger stayed in the chicken coop. He was kneeling by a smaller chicken that was picking delicately at some corn kernels. The woman came and crouched beside him. She noticed how he was gently fingering the bird's twisted wing. "He can't fly," she explained, somehow already feeling that this boy was just as delicate as the bird. "His wing has been broken since he was born. See? It's all mangled." Roger stayed silent. He just kept petting the chicken quietly and watching it eat. Another chicken came and pushed it out of the way. It started eating the lame one's kernels. Roger didn't like that. He unexpectedly pushed the bigger chicken with his hands harshly, causing it to crow in anger. The woman quickly took his wrists and held them for a moment, returning them to his sides gingerly. She didn't want to scold him. But she knew that he wanted to help the lame chicken. She then guided his hands to the pile of kernels, using them to scoop up a portion. She held them out towards the creature which began picking them right out of Roger's hands. He giggled at the pricking sensation of the beak as it pecked away hungrily.

Jack got to feed a horse some cubes of sugar, which made him laugh to see all of its teeth as it ate like it was smiling. The next activity was for anyone who volunteered to ride a horse around a circular area once. Henry hopped on one, Bill on the other. Bill was always clumsy. Always had bad luck. As the two rode around the circle with the farmers guiding their animals, his horse gave itself a great big shake, sending its rider flying into the dirt. The man and woman carefully helped him up and asked profusely if he was alright. Bill nodded. His face reddened as everyone was laughing and he tried to laugh too. "That just about surmises all of Bill's social encounters!" Harold joked. Bill playfully shoved him to make himself feel more manly.

The boys stayed at the farm for a long time, greeting every animal, getting all of their questions answered. They watched the farmers churn some butter, then took turns using the handle. The man and wife brought them each a slice of toast to then decorate and eat with the butter they'd made. It was a wonderful day that made all the boys smile the whole time. As each hopped back on the bus, they thanked the farmer couple for everything. The teacher did a head count as the boys took their seats. All were accounted for.

The bus ride home was rather quiet; almost silent the nearer they got to the school. Jack looked over at the hyperactive boy beside him. Maurice was exactly the opposite now. And the only reason for that was because he had fallen asleep right there in his seat. Jack sat up and looked at his whole class. Everyone was either sitting quietly or dozing. Simon had closed his eyes and was peacefully napping with his head on Roger's shoulder. Roger had an arm around him to keep him up. He was just silently looking out the window. Bill had his knees drawn close to him and his head on them. He was just beginning to snooze. Harold and Henry were still talking, but they used hushed voices so as not to disturb their classmates. Jack grinned. The farm had been so much fun. He yawned and began to feel a little drowsy himself. He leaned his head back and let his eyes closed, picturing the rolling pastures and happy animals prancing around in the lush green surroundings.


	16. Righteous and Unrighteous

**Hi guys! I'm just warning you, this one gets sad. I would like to thank ****_Just Your Average Writer Here_**** for this wonderful idea! I loved writing it. It really gave me a chance to put a lot of detail into it and also a lot of feeling. So thank you for the suggestion! And remember; even if you are just toying with an idea, I'd love to hear (even the bits and pieces of) it. I really enjoy putting your ideas into words! Thanks for helping me do that! :) **

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Jack flew down the hallways as fast as he could, his black robe billowing behind him. He'd gotten word of a fight that was currently happening, and caught wind that it was one of his boys that was riling things up. Loud voices and shouts and claps came into hearing. He knew he was close. As he rounded a corner, he saw the ring of boys that had gathered to watch the fight-the one that enclosed the two mystery fighters in the center.

Jack shoved past a few boys to see the fighters. One was Maurice. He was holding a smaller boy up by the collar and screaming in his face. "You _dare_ me to say it again?! You really just dared me?! _Answer me, you bloody freak!_" he shouted. Jack had never seen him this angry before. Something really must've been going down. The smaller boy didn't answer. Instead, he spit directly into Maurice's face. Maurice screamed with rage and started hitting the boy all over. "I…said…no…one…_loves…you!_" he stammered out as he thrashed the opponent. The other boy began to fight back. "Made fun of me for the last time! And my new brother! I'll…I'll…!" the smaller boy retorted. Jack instantly went pale. It was Roger. Maurice and Roger were actually fighting.

Neither boy was very big-Maurice was a normal height but had very little body fat. Roger was short and was almost too skinny. It wouldn't be a very grandiose ending, Jack surmised, but it was definitely getting a reaction from the crowd. The watchers shouted things like "Get him where it hurts!…Hit him harder!…Make him bleed!…Bruise him!" Jack looked up and saw a teacher come running out of her classroom and through the ring of boys. He saw that there were now drops of blood sprinkling the shoes of the inner bystanders. This was getting out of hand. The teacher took Maurice, Jack grabbed for Roger. As soon as they pulled the fighters away from each other, Roger fell into an episode. His face was bright red, he was leaning forward and pulling against Jack, he screamed at the very top of his lungs. "I'll kill you! _I'll kill you!_ I hate every _inch of you!_" he shrieked. The ring of boys started to back away fearfully. It took literally of Jack's strength to restrain the episodic boy. Roger screamed so hard that each intake of air was a asthmatic gasp. Tears were rushing down his face. He clawed at Jack's arms and kicked with his feet. Maurice also had tears running down his face, but not because he was sorry or upset-just because he had so much anger inside of him that he didn't know what to do with it. The teacher calmed him as best she could. She was gentle. Jack tried to be gentle with Roger; tried stroking his hair and hugging him close, but the dark-haired boy couldn't possibly _just stop_.

Eventually, Roger couldn't breathe. His windpipe closed from screaming and stress, which started to scare him. He motioned wildly to his neck, clinging to Jack the whole time. Jack tried to stay calm, but was having trouble. He didn't know what to do. He pounded on Roger's frail back, trying to force enough air out that the windpipe would open again. The teacher shouted things for him to do over all the sniffling and crying. She couldn't let go of Maurice. Once Roger did eventually get to breathing again, his respiration sounded ragged and wheezy. He fell to the floor, rocking himself back and forth with his face in his hands. "I hate you…I hate you…I hate you…I hate you…" he jaggedly exhaled repeatedly. Maurice stared hard at him.

Hurried little footsteps came down the hall. _Simon._ He looked at the terrible mess of both the boys and the two restraining them. The neat bun the teacher was known for keeping was falling out in pieces strung across her face. Jack was visibly straining. Simon wasn't sure who to comfort-he just wanted to hold both of the fighters. He didn't mind Maurice, even when he made fun of him, and Roger was his foster brother. He just stood there wordless, looking at the floor. Jack and the teacher made both boys get up and walk to the principal's office with them.

Later that night, Roger went home with Simon and immediately went upstairs to their room. He shut the door. Simon's parents became upset. They worried about their new child and wanted to help him, but they just didn't know what happened. Simon quickly explained that Roger was sent to the principal's office for fighting and was rather disturbed by it all. Mr. and Mrs. Louis looked at each other, and decided it would be best to give Roger his space for a little bit to cool down.

Mrs. Louis brought a plate of food upstairs after dinner. She gingerly knocked on the bedroom door and let herself in. Roger was sitting on the bed, facing the wall. His back was to her. "Hello, sweetie." she cooed gently. She shut the door behind her. As she sat down on the bed, she put the plate on the nightstand. "I brought you something to eat. You must be hungry." Still, he didn't reply. "Do you want to come downstairs? Simon's reading by the fireplace. He saved your usual spot on the couch for you." She waited for a long time in just silence, tracing the print on her skirt with her fingers. After _so long_, Roger spoke. "You can send me back." he whispered. His voice was very hoarse. She put her hands on her pregnant stomach. "No! No, sweetie. We'd never do that-"

"It'd be better for you. I'm…an embarrassment…"

"Darling, what are you-"

"Fought Maurice today. He was making fun of me in English class. Then he started to pick on Simon. Made me mad. I…I fought him. Embarrassed you. Your whole family."

Simon's mother closed her eyes, thinking hard about what to say. "Sweetie, you didn't embarrass us. Tell me what happened." she said gently. Roger sighed. "He called me 'creepster' again. He made a joke in front of the whole class…about my teeth." Roger was blatantly missing three or four teeth in a row on the top right side of his mouth-a result of his father's abuse. They were baby teeth, and permanent ones would grow in surely, but they weren't ready to come out, so his gums were scabbed and would remain toothless for a while longer. "Then he called me insane. Said I ripped them out myself. Said I…slit my wrists…" Roger sniffled a little. He paused. "Then he made fun of Simon because Simon stuck up for me even though he shouldn't have to and he does too much for me and he's so good and I'm just nothing but bad all the time I'm just bad on the inside and it never will come out of me." Roger rushed out the last part. He was clearly getting upset again. Mrs. Louis turned him around gently. "So then you two fought?" she asked patiently. He nodded. "When we got outside in the hall I called him a bad name and he kept making his stupid jokes. He told everyone that no one loves me. He _said_ that. He said no girl, no daddy, no mummy, and…no…brother. So I pushed him. And he pushed me back. I spit on him. We screamed. Jack came. I…had a moment." he trailed off.

Mrs. Louis pulled him close. "It's alright, sweetie." she cooed gently. He was crying now, but silently. "On the way back from the principal's office, Jack whispered to me that I was an embarrassment. I'm sorry I'm an embarrassment. Send me back." he sputtered. Mrs. Louis shook her head and hugged him. "No, darling ducky. We'll never send you back there. That's not what you need. You need someone to take excellent care of you."

"I deserve…_him_."

"You most certainly do not. You feel so angry and upset sometimes because of what he did to you and your brother. That's why. You feel so enraged that someone had that power over you, that sometimes the walls break and it all just comes pouring out. It's _alright_, Roger. It's ok," she assured him.

Mr. Louis entered the room to see how things were going. He sat with his wife and put his arms around the both of them. Mrs. Louis put Roger's small hands on her stomach. "This is what you deserve," she whispered. "Some place that's warm and safe, some place where people love you dearly, some place where you know you'll be greeted happily. You…deserve to be our baby for now." Roger leaned into both of them and cried so hard.

The next day at school, Roger and Maurice were particularly quiet. Until religion class, that is. The teacher assigned them a paired project to complete on a topic that was frowned upon in the Bible, so that the class would be able to better understand the righteous from the unrighteous. He began to assign the pairs. Simon gently brushed Roger's hand to tell him that he'd try to get them to be partners. But Jack had other plans.

The teacher assigned Roger and Maurice to be partners. Roger whirled around to glare at the head boy. "You." he snarled. "You planned this. You did this. It was you." Jack gave his cocky smirk and shrugged. Maurice told the teacher blatantly that he refused to work with someone uncontrollable. Roger felt his muscles tighten. Simon gently rubbed his shoulder to keep him calm. The teacher gave the "no exceptions" speech and forced the two to sit together.

Maurice held the Bible in front of them. For a long time, they were silent. Never being able to keep quiet for long, Maurice broke it. "What should we do? Because if I get anything less than a perfect mark on this project, it's all your fault." he snapped. Roger stayed silent. Maurice fanned the pages of the leather-bound book back and forth for a while. "How about war?" he asked. Roger shook his head. "Bill's group has that." he said.  
"Creepster. No one would know that unless they listened in to everything."

The two weren't getting far. Maurice snorted. "How about Cain and Abel? Killing a brother? Hm?" he mocked. Roger's eyes sprang with tears. That didn't stop the angry boy. "You seem to do _that_ pretty well. I know more about you than you think. You think that shutting up and staying silent all the time makes you hard to read. It only makes it easier. That whole funeral, you looked _bloody guilty_. No one would've been crying that hard unless they had something to do with it. You act like you're the one that needs 'help' to every teacher and to Jack. Well, you aren't fooling me. You're nothing but a fake. You're _nothing_." Maurice snapped, feeling particularly mean. Roger took a shuddery breath. He shook his head slowly. "You…don't know me at all." he whispered. Maurice scoffed. "That's a bloody lie. I just told you!"

"You don't know…about my father."

Maurice paused. "I know that he and your mummy don't get along; she wasn't even at the funeral-"

"You just couldn't see her."

"…You don't even talk sense!"

"Mummy's dead. She was at William's funeral. She was there to help him walk up to Heaven."

"…Alright, so…your father certainly was there!"

"That was the one day in nearly three years that my father was sober."

"What does that mean?"

"…Ever since Mummy died, he started drinking every day. He drinks alcohol. And when you drink it, something about you turns different. Mr. Louis says you don't remember anything. I guess it's like a transformation potion-like in the movies with the witches. Well, I know it made Father different. He hit me and William a lot. It started off slow at first, but then it got really bad. William was too frail to take it, so I…ended up taking a lot of the blame for things so I could get beaten instead of him. I didn't mind it; as long as he was safe. But William hated it. He didn't like seeing me get hurt all the time, and he didn't like when I lied to make an accident look like it was me. It was my job to take care of him all the time. I always had to watch him closely so that if he fell, I could catch him. Or else he'd get very hurt."

"…Your daddy would hit you?"

"Why do you think I'm missing so many teeth?"

"You mean…"

"And William didn't die because of rickets. He died because Father beat him. Broke one of his ribs and the pieces of bone shredded his lungs. Only lasted a few days after that. I…couldn't jump in front of that one final blow that did it. So yes. I am responsible for William's death. I did kill my brother."

Maurice opened his mouth, then shut it. He looked down at the book. Roger seemed calm. "And you told everyone in class yesterday that I slit my wrists because I was insane. I was going to. I thought up eleven ways to kill myself. Because I couldn't stand living with just father anymore, I missed William so much, I felt incredibly guilty, I couldn't take one more beating. Simon found out. Took me in. Been living with him and his family for a few weeks now."

"That's why you and Simon are suddenly so close?"

"They take care of me. They don't get mad at me. They certainly don't beat me. I get breakfast, lunch and dinner _every day_. I'm…happy."

"Roger…I didn't know…"

"Now."

"Yes, now I do. Is that why you jump at loud noises? Like the goat? And why you never used to eat lunch, so you'd share an apple with Simon? You watch people because you had to watch William so carefully all the time? And is that why you cry for no reason sometimes?"

"Yes."

"Oh…oh my God…no…oh, Roger. Please forgive me. Please. I feel like I can't even live with myself-!"

"Now you know how I feel every day."

Maurice dropped his head into his hands. His mouth gaped for words that he couldn't find at the moment. Roger stared at the desk solemnly. There was an incredibly long silence that passed. It felt like absolute ages. The teacher walked by their desks and tapped his rule on the wood. "Are we coming along well?" he asked. Maurice picked his head up out of his hands and grabbed his pencil. "Yes, sir." he murmured. Roger's bony fingers played with the tassel on the Bible's page-marker. Maurice felt tears sting his eyes. "I'm…so…sorry…" he choked out. Roger didn't even move. Maurice then broke into tears of complete shame. "I'll do anything…_anything_ to make it up to you. To prove I'm not…such a monster…" he begged. Roger sighed. "You're not the monster because of the things you do." he murmured. Maurice bawled. He unexpectedly threw his arms around the smaller boy and just cried. Roger stayed still. "I'm the monster for the things I think about doing," he whispered almost inaudibly.

After a while, Maurice sat up. He rubbed his eyes on his sleeve. "Alright…let's do this project then." he said. He began flipping through the Bible again, then stopped. "How about we do abuse?" he asked. "So everyone will know how bad it is." Roger shrugged. "As long as I don't have to talk about it." he said. Maurice nodded. "Of course not. We'll only go by what it says in the Bible." The two agreed. They began their work on the project, only this time, they worked together.

Jack sat back in his chair and nodded approvingly. Simon, his partner, glanced up at him. "You did that on purpose?" he asked. Jack nodded. "Both were wrong to do what they did. But insight into another person usually prevents that from happening again." he explained. Simon nodded. His leader watched the two boys getting along. He started to continue writing the quote he was taking from the Holy Book, then stopped. "He cried yesterday," he told the redhead. Jack nodded. "He cried at school too."

"But I mean at home. In front of my parents. He hasn't ever cried that hard, I believe."

"He's so bright; so smart. And he has amazing control over people, simply because they fear him. It's incredible. A boy that small, that _literally broken_…has power. Yet the only thing he can't control is himself."

Simon stroked Jack's arm in agreement. "He's just very confused lately." he said. The two went back to working. Jack smiled when he thought of his doings. It worked. It always worked. He'd mended the dissension of his group.


	17. Saturday

**When I posted this story, I NEVER imagined it being so well-loved and getting so many reviews. I can't thank you all enough! 3 This is a little chapter for those of you that might be wondering what some of the main boys do on a Saturday. To keep it from being too long, I only wrote for some of them. Please enjoy this! It's all just fun stuff. :)**

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One Saturday morning, Maurice was up and ready to start the day early as usual. His parents weren't even awake yet. He fixed that by running into their room and jumping up and down on the mattress, begging them to get up. The adults began to stir. Maurice then flipped over and pretended to be a puppy. He panted and nuzzled their shoulders until they patted his head and caused his rump to wag in the air. His mother asked if he was hungry for breakfast, and when he replied the affirmative, he gave a playful bark.

As his mother made breakfast, Maurice sat at the table with his father who was reading the newspaper. "What are you going to do at work today, Daddy?" he curiously inquired. His father patted his head. "I'll work on some more plans for submarines to give to my engineers." he answered. Maurice's eyes widened. "So all you do is draw the stuff, and then you tell everyone else to make it for you?"

"Basically, yes. That's what being captain gets you."

"I want to do that when I grow up,"

"You'd make a fine engineering captain, my boy."

Maurice's mother set down a plate of waffles for all three of them. The energetic boy gobbled his down fast. Immediately he ran to the window and looked outside. It was raining. He donned his raincoat and rainboots, yelled something about playing outside, and bolted out the door. Maurice ran along the sidewalks splashing in every puddle he could find. He loved the outside even when it was rainy. It was fun to slide in the wet grass and stomp in pools of water so that droplets went shooting right up into his face. Maurice dedicated his whole day to being outdoors. When the rain stopped, he brought his toy boat out with him and sailed it in the deeper puddles, pretending he was the one that drew up the plan for it and had all of his workers build.

**X x X**

Bill spent his Saturday in the hospital, mostly. It all started when he woke up and went downstairs to give his mother a hug. A typical morning. She fixed him something to eat and laid out his clothes. As he was changing from his pajamas into his playclothes, he accidentally stepped directly onto a sharp plastic soldier that he'd forgotten he'd left on the floor. The little toy became lodged into his heel, dripping blood, sending him screaming for his mummy. She tried to take it out herself, but the boy was crying too hard and it was wedged in there pretty good. She drove him down the street to the hospital where they had to sit in the waiting room for a very long time. When other patients were awaiting a doctor's care began to complain, Bill heard a nurse at the front desk say that a plane of soldiers had returned from a battlefield in Germany and were receiving priority treatment. Bill inspected the toy soldier lodged into his foot. He thought about the real soldiers. He wondered if their pain was as bad as the pain of something getting inadvertently stabbed into you.

Bill was treated by a doctor that gave him a shot in the bottom of his foot and waited a few minutes for the procaine to take effect. Then when he removed the plastic plaything, Bill felt no pain. He still cried and clung to his mummy's hand though. He was just scared. His mother put a hand over his eyes so he couldn't watch the procedure. Once the soldier was removed from his heel, the doctor bandaged his entire foot in a white medical tape. Bill hobbled out of the emergency room holding his mother's hand. On his way down the hall, he saw a man with bloody bandages wrapped around the bottom of his leg. There wasn't a foot. The man was sleeping, obviously, but Bill looked at him with admiration. He was wearing a lieutenant's uniform. _I'm just like a soldier,_ he thought. _I was technically wounded by another soldier, even if it _was_ just a toy. Maybe everyone out there will think I'm a big man just like that lieutenant when they see my injuries._ He walked out of the hospital rather proudly, even though to the rest of the world it really only looked like he'd stepped on something sharp.

**X x X**

Simon stirred in bed and turned over as he opened his eyes. Roger was curled up beside him, also just beginning to wake. The two met eyes and laughed. Simon covered more of his foster brother with their comforter. "Good morning," he whispered. Roger smiled. "Morning," he replied. The two stayed huddled together in the warmth of the cozy bed for a long time just enjoying being brothers, before finally deciding to get up and go downstairs. Mrs. Louis had breakfast all ready for them as soon as they descended the stairs. Roger was beginning to become more comfortable with eating around Simon's family. Before he would eat little so that he wouldn't feel like he was taking too much of their food. Mr. Louis kissed the top of each boy's head as he grabbed his briefcase. "I'll see you all at dinner tonight," he said. He gave his wife an extra long kiss and promised he'd think of her all day. Simon and Roger glanced at each other and giggled at the adult affection going on that they didn't quite understand.

Mrs. Louis decided it would be a good Saturday to take the boys to the pet store for fun. When she'd heard about Roger's incident at school, she figured that maybe the boy missed simply having something to take care of. Bringing the both of them to a pet store seemed like a good way to tell.

As soon as they entered the shop, Simon's face lit up. He went to every cage, every box, every tank to interact with the animals inside. The pet shop owner was an old, kindly man whose eyes twinkled. He let the boys hold any animals they wanted, except for the fish of course. While Simon was teaching a brown-and-white puppy dog to fetch, Mrs. Louis noticed that Roger was sitting on the floor quietly, stroking a kitten's head. He seemed to be talking to it. The owner approached her. "That boy seems to really like the little kitten." he commented. She agreed. Simon had put the puppy back and was now feeding some exotic birds a few individual seeds. Both adults were watching Roger and the cat. "Did you come with the intention of buying?" the owner asked. Mrs. Louis shrugged. "I thought it would help him adjust to his new life-you know, having something to take care of and just love him unconditionally. So, yes. But the boys don't know though. They think we're just here to look." The cat mewed lovingly and curled its tail around his skinny wrist. The man chuckled. "You know, I like to see an animal find its perfect owner. And when that happens, well, I'd do just about anything to get them together. I'll knock off the price of that kitten. We'll do half off its original sale. No, seventy-five percent off." His eyes twinkled. Mrs. Louis put a hand on her heart. "Oh no, sir. I'm perfectly capable of paying the full price. Honestly. It really isn't any trouble at all. " she encouraged. But he simply shook his head.

Simon knelt beside his foster brother and also began playing with the kitten. The pair whispered for a little bit, cooing over the little creature, as Mrs. Louis secretively paid. She approached the two. "What would you like to name her?" she asked. Both boys' faces lit up. Amid the questions of if the cat was actually theirs, Roger said, "We should name her Stormy. Because of the weather here. Plus she's gray." The woman nodded lovingly. "Well, then let's get her home and give her some food and milk!"

**X x X**

Jack woke up and greeted his parents, explaining to them that he was planning to spend the day with Mary-Sue. They thought that was a wonderful idea and gave him money to take her out somewhere. After seeing both parents go off to work (his mother liked to volunteer at a flower shop nearby for just a few hours every week), he walked his sister Jessica to her primary school daycare center. After leaving her in the care of her teachers, he walked down the street to his lover's house. When Mary-Sue answered the door, Jack was reminded of her stunning beauty. He inadvertently smiled upon seeing that beautiful hay-colored hair. She wore a cute bouncy dress that cut off just above her knees. Jack opened an umbrella for her. "I'm looking for the prettiest girl on this street to take to the movies this afternoon," he said as he looked around. Mary-Sue giggled. "And I believe I've found her right here." He took her hand and led her down the steps. As they walked under the same umbrella, he kept one arm wrapped around her waist.

Once inside the big movie theater on the other side of the city (they had to take a public bus to get there in time for the showing), Jack bought the two of them some candy and guided her up the steps of the theater all the way to the back row of seats. The two had the whole back three rows to themselves. The audience was mostly elderly, since it was rather early in the afternoon, but it was the only time they could see a movie together-Jack would have to pick up his little sister form daycare in time so she wouldn't be left there alone. As soon as the film began, the two joined hands.

They really didn't know what the details of the story were; they mainly picked up bits and pieces of the plot as it went on. They started off holding hands, then Jack leaned in and gave her a kiss on the cheek. She returned it. By about half an hour in, they'd abandoned their candy and were just enjoying their alone time together. Jack held her by her waist as they kissed, she had her small hands around his face dramatically. As if they themselves were in a movie. That was really all they did-just some kisses and missing majority of the plot line. But to Jack, it was absolute heaven.

Once the movie ended, he grabbed her a bite to eat on their way home. The two stopped on the steps of her door. Mary-Sue bit her lip. "Jack," she began. "Remember that part in the movie where the man and the woman shared that lovely parting kiss in the rain?" Jack blushed. He remembered it alright. He'd actually pictured himself and his girl in that same situation as it was playing on the screen. But trying to hide his real emotion, he dominantly pulled her close and let the umbrella close. Immediately, they were starting to get soaked from the downpour. He leaned her back a little, holding her in his arms. "You mean like this?" he whispered into her ear as he planted a big dramatic kiss right onto her lips. Mary-Sue wrapped her own arms around his neck. When the kiss finally broke, she seemed at a loss for words. Jack grinned. That was how he liked to leave her all the time. Feeling breathless and most in love. They were completely soaked, but Mary-Sue just kept smiling and blushing.

When Jack picked little Jessica up from her daycare, he held the umbrella over her head now. She swung her little hand in his as they walked along. "Jackie?" she asked. "Why are you all wet? Your hands are cold." Jack thought fast. He gave her a kind smile. "On my way here, this bloody umbrella kept collapsing. So I had to stop and fix it so that I could walk Princess Jessica to her palace nice and dry after a day of royal doings." he replied. Jessica giggled. "Alright. That's a good reason." she said.


	18. Art Projects

**Fun break! This is a little divergence from some of the plots but it's very relevant of course. I hope you think it's entertaining. The boys love you all very much!**

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There was a substitute teacher in the choirboys' religion class, and since there wasn't much a stand-in teacher could do in a class about Catholicism, she simply instructed them to draw a picture of any kind that represented a scene from the Bible, or a how religion fit into their lives. It would've went well, except for the fact that boys would be boys, and trying to get a class full of bubbly youngsters to focus and be neat was a nearly impossible task.

As she passed out the blank pieces of paper, the class ran to the back of the room and began digging through the bins of various art supplies, shouting and grabbing and whooping. Roger brushed off any invisible imperfections from his clean white paper-he took art very seriously. Maurice grabbed as many crayons as he could and eagerly ran back and forth to the bucket as everyone worked; so much so that the substitute brought the whole box over to him and left it on his desk to keep him from being so hyper.

Simon decided to use watercolors as his means of creating a picture. He had the patience for it, that was for sure. He made his paintbrush dance across the page as he mixed the colors. He loved painting. Almost as much as reading. Everything was beginning to come together. He felt someone watching him, so he lifted his eyes for a moment to see who it was. It was just Roger. He was gazing at the paper under Simon's hand. He gave a nod and a half-smile. "Looks good," he said. Simon was suddenly impressed. Roger was just beginning to smile more, even if it was a hint of a smile, and he was attempting starting conversations by himself. Saying something first as opposed to waiting for another person to speak. Simon thanked him and gave him a warm smile. It was his foster brother that inspired the picture he was painting.

Jack used colored pencils mostly for his representation of a Bible scene. He wasn't the best artist when it came to actually sketching something out with his hands. But when it came to music, indeed he was gifted. He could sing C-sharp. As he maintained his focus on the task before him he heard a loud howl from the next desk over. Bill was rubbing his fingers with a bright red face and tears in his eyes. He'd caught nearly everyone's attention. Jack looked at him with wide eyes. "What on earth did you do?" he asked. Bill sniffled. "I sharpened the blue colored pencil too much, and when I went to use it, I accidentally stabbed my pointer finger." he replied. Silence followed. Then Maurice let out a roaring laugh that made everyone start to chuckle. Bill tried to giggle himself, but embarrassment took over and he just went back to drawing rather quickly so no one could see his reddening face.

The substitute walked around the classroom, inspecting everyone's work. Occasionally, she would tell a boy that it "looked very nice" or that he was "doing a great job". When it became clear that everyone was finishing up, she clapped her hands together. "Alright, children! Once we get cleaned up we're going to share our pictures in front of the whole class!" The boys all excitedly obeyed her call to pick up their art supplies and put them away neatly. They all hid their pictures from each other so no one could get a sneak peek before it was for the revealing.

The substitute called on Maurice to go first. Not because of luck or random selection, though-he was literally standing up in his seat, waving _both_ hands in the air to get her attention. He stood up and explained to the class that he'd drawn the birth of Jesus in the manger. He pointed out every person that was standing under a rather poorly drawn shed roof with a little circle (supposed to be the baby) laying in the middle of them. As soon as he finished his presentation, it became clear to everyone that he was no artist. Bill raised his hand. "Mary kinda looks like a horse," he pointed out. Maurice studied his picture closely. "I don't see how you could possibly…think…" Then he burst into seemingly endless laughter. He nodded as he cackled. "I see it! I see it!" he gasped out.

Bill's turn was next. He explained to everyone that he'd drawn a picture of Jesus resurrecting from the tomb. He'd dawn lots of fluffy little animals around the rock-so fluffy that they all looked like different colored clouds. Robert showed his drawing next. He'd used paint to create a Noah's Ark scene that had a big boat and several animals on it. He was surprisingly pretty artistic for not even doing too much writing of notes during class. His hands actually did do something good. Harold drew a picture of his own self following some of the ten commandments to show how religion was a part of his life. Henry followed suit, and made a rather decent drawing of his family praying at the dinner table.

The boys all hollered and whooped when Jack was called on to present his picture. He wasn't really nervous about it; he just didn't want them tall to point out in creative lack when it came to visual arts. He held up his picture shakily. "I drew a picture of Jesus watching us perform at one of our choir concerts." he told them. Everyone ooh-ed and ah-ed. "See? There's Bill and Maurice, Robert, Henry, and then right there is Harold, Simon, Roger, Tim, Rupert, and Charlie. And that's me directing all of you. And that bearded man in the audience is Jesus." he explained rather quickly. As everyone continued to stare at his work, he blushed a bit. Maurice piped up. "Three cheers for Jack because he made Henry's head as big as it looks in real life!" he called out. Everyone clapped and cheered, some for the drawing itself, others for the reason Maurice had pointed out. Jack turned his paper in and sat down.

Simon was next to present, and he shyly stood in front of the class, holding his piece of paper. "It's not completely dry yet. I used watercolor paint. But it's a picture of my family hiding in the basement during an air raid. Mummy's holding onto me and Roger there, and Daddy's got his arms around all of us. And the person that's standing behind my family and I is Jesus. He's protecting us. Sometimes when we're hiding down in the shelter, I feel like He's really there." Simon explained quietly.  
"Nuts!" Harold called out. Everyone giggled a bit. "Everyone knows Jesus is in Heaven. He's not on earth anymore!" he continued. Simon looked down. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He was so embarrassed. A voice rose from the side of the classroom. "But we still feel like God is watching over us, and isn't Jesus God's Son?" Roger asked aloud to the class. Everyone went silent. After several long seconds, Maurice called out again. "Three cheers for Simon because his painting was better than Robert's!" Everyone clapped again. Maurice looked over at Roger, who was staring of course, and gave a small nod. He'd promised to be kinder. He had to keep that promise. Roger nodded back.

The teacher stood up. "Alright, everyone made wonderful pictures! I'll save them all for your teacher to display around the room." she said. Bill put his hand in the air. "Wait! One more person from choir hasn't gone!" he yelled. Jack put his head in his hands. They were so close to avoiding a disaster. So close. "Toothy hasn't gone yet!" Bill cried, making everyone in the room giggle. He nudged Maurice. But the skinny boy didn't join in their joke. He'd created that name for Roger, and now every time someone used it he felt awful. The teacher called Roger up to the front of the room. When he reluctantly held up his picture, she gasped and stood in front of him. "I…don't know that this is entirely appropriate…" she said uneasily to him. He didn't respond. The boys in the room started clapping and calling out. "Come on!…We can handle it!…What is it?…Let us see it!…We'll be fine!" Jack slapped his hand to his forehead as if punishing himself. They were so close. The teacher hesitantly stepped aside and everyone fell silent. Roger had drawn an extremely realistic (for a twelve-year-old) sketch of Jesus' face in just a gray pencil. Resting on top of the head was the crown of thorns. Where the thorns dug into the skin of the person in the picture, Roger had used red marker to make the blood stand out. "Jesus suffered," he said simply. Immediately, he put his picture down and went back to his seat. Everyone stared at him. They knew he kept a very secretive sketchbook and that he had lots of practice drawing, but they never imagined him to be that good. Even Jack was surprised.

The next day when their teacher was back at school, their artwork was hung up on the walls of the classroom. Almost everyone's though. Roger's wasn't hanging up. He was clearly confused by this, so Jack inquired for him. The teacher chuckled. "I had that one sent to the headmaster's office," he replied. Roger's eyes went wide. He couldn't possibly get in trouble with the headmaster one more time. They'd kick him out. "When I showed him, he wanted to have it framed and hung in the main office building for visitors to see. It's that good," the man continued. Simon, Jack, and Roger all let out a breath they didn't realize they were holding. Simon hugged his brother. "See? You're such a good artist!" he said. Jack patted his shoulder approvingly. Maurice's hand went up in the air. "How come mine wasn't sent to the headmaster's office? I worked so hard!" he cried. "Maurice, you drew yours in crayon." the teacher responded. Bill laughed. "Not to mention it looked like a kindergartener did it!"

None of the drawings hanging around the classroom were anything too stellar, but the kids were all pretty proud of them. Even Jack, who'd been afraid of rejection, enjoyed seeing his choir picture displayed above the backpack rack. Even though the children liked doing that fun little art project and were happy to continue to examine their results, the teacher made a mental note that doing such projects would only be good for some students-the ones who actually could draw. Others had better stick to academics.


	19. Little Sailors

**Thank you all so much for your support! This is seriously my favorite thing to write. I think about it and look for inspiration all day, and then I formulate the story in my mind haha :) please feel free to send me any ideas or whatever you'd like to see! I hope you really get a kick out of this one.**

* * *

The choir excitedly chattered together as they stood on the dock surrounded by huge boats and sailing ships. It was the day of one of their concerts-but a very special concert at that. They were to perform for a private party that was being held on a dinner boat. A big group of very fancy guests had rented the boat and were going to be dining as it sailed out onto the sea and then back through the harbor. Jack's choir was going to be part of the entertainment. They were each promised a dinner of their own in payment for their sweet voices; most of the boys had never been on a dinner boat before.

Jack could tell Maurice was gearing up to have a hyper attack. When the boy bounced up and down on the dock as he babbled away to Bill, Jack went around behind him and put his hands on his shoulders, once again forcing his feet to stay flat on the wood. "This is no time for your nonsense. Behave like a proper English boy. You're not only representing our school and our choir, but you're representing me. And I can make things a lot worse for you if you mess up my performance reputation. Understand me?" Jack hissed to him. Maurice nodded. While he did understand his leader loud and clear, he decided that nothing was going to stop him from having a good time.

The guests started boarding the fancy boat. They were very dressed up in elegant dresses and stunning suits. Not a hair was out of place. Jack went around and inspected each boy to be sure that they too looked proper. He straightened Simon's hat just to be safe, adjusted the cloak of Bill, re-parted Harold's chocolate bangs, and fussed Henry for not polishing his shoes. Once he stalked off to double-check the music folders, Robert leaned into Henry (who was starting to sniffle from embarrassment and sheer nerves) and whispered, "Don't take it personally. He always gets this way before a performance."

Jack led the boys onto the boat just before it set sail. They got into their formations and walked in an orderly fashion up the ramp. About midway across, Roger stopped suddenly. He'd looked down over the railing at the swirling depths beneath them. Some boys let out mumbled complaints and jeers. Roger anxiously reached behind him for Simon. Simon gave his fingers and gentle squeeze and put a hand on his scrawny shoulder. "It's alright," he whispered into his ear. "I'm right behind you. I won't let you fall. Just keep walking forward and aim your eyes nowhere else but the doorframe of the boat. See it? Keep focused on that. I've got your hand." Roger stared at the frame of the door that Simon had brought to his attention. He never let go of Simon's gentle grasp. Some of the other boys snickered and giggled a bit when they saw it, but neither brother cared-they were a family, and that made it alright.

Jack was ready to smack Robert for walking onto the boat with a "stupid grin" on his face and not ceasing his foolishness upon command. So instead, Jack slapped Simon and Roger's hands apart as soon as they walked in. Roger looked up at him with truly hurt eyes, which Jack made a mental note to apologize for later. Every boy let out a gasp they couldn't possibly suppress when they entered the gorgeous dining room. "It doesn't even look like we're on a ship!" Harold breathed in amazement. Everyone admired the crystal light fixtures, the beautiful gold-crested china dishes, the stunning people that seemed to fit right in. There were stairs that led to the upstairs, which was an open deck to look off of. Jack guided his choir to where they were going to stand for their performance. The ship set sail.

As the guests got their food from a long buffet-style line of platters and plates along both walls of the boat, Jack prepared his choir mentally. "I want all of you to focus. Focus hard and think of nothing but our music. We have to be nothing less than absolutely spectacular; this is a wonderful experience that we must all be very grateful for." he instructed. His choir nodded obediently. Once nearly all of the guests were seated and beginning to eat their meal, Jack began conducting his choir.

The performance went very well. The fancy people all stood up at the end and gave the boys a standing ovation. To Jack, this was the best possible response from an audience. As the boys disbanded to go get their own plates of food from the buffet lines, people congratulated them and complimented their heavenly little voices.

The chefs on the boat had prepared some items that the young boys would like instead of the rich delicacies the adults were eating. They were welcome to take anything, but the servers also put out some macaroni and cheese, chicken noodle soup, dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets, and frosted donuts for dessert. The boys loved this new "buffet" thing they were experiencing, especially Maurice, who took enough dinosaur-shaped nuggets to feed all of them. They sat at their own little round table to eat. Everyone enjoyed it so much. Jack felt a lot better after the performance and was back to acting happy, which all of the boys were grateful for. The only one that wasn't doing too well was Bill. He didn't eat much and just picked around at his food. "I don't feel so good…" he whined, causing everyone's conversations to momentarily hush. Jack put a hand on the boy's forehead. "You aren't running a fever," he concluded. "How do you feel sick?"

"My tummy hurts. I-I mean my stomach. My _stomach_ hurts."

"Did you feel ill before we got here?"

"No,"

"Maybe you're getting seasick."

Bill groaned and put his hands on his stomach. Jack warned him to be careful of what he ate, and had him drink soda to help settle the uneasiness. Maurice was having a ball as he listened to the string quartet play beautiful music and ate his donuts and chicken nuggets. Jack was eating more adult food; a crab cake, some steamed clams, herb-crusted chicken, and a few delicate pastries. He couldn't pass up a nice dinosaur nugget or two though.

Simon nudged Roger as they ate their food. "Have you ever eaten a sea urchin before?" he whispered. Roger cocked his head. "Isn't that the little animal with the poky things all over it?"

"I believe so,"

"Then no I haven't. Have you?"

"No, but I took one from the buffet because I saw a young man eating one and I wanted to try it. But I'm scared it'll taste bad."

"Do it. I want to know what you think."

"I'll take a bite if you take a bite."

"No!"

"Please, Roger? What if I don't like it?"

"…Alright, fine."

The boys each took a small amount of sea urchin meat on their forks. They stared at each other, grinning nervously. Simon counted down. "On three. Ready? One…two…three!" They both quickly took a bite and chewed at the same time. A look of distaste spread across their faces just as identically. Simon shook his head. "I don't like it," he mumbled. Roger agreed as he took a big gulp of his water to wash it down. Simon pushed the meat over on his plate far from his other food. Both were too embarrassed to really want to talk about it. After a few seconds of silence, Roger whispered. "It was…chewy." Both shuddered at the memory of the sea urchin. Robert leaned over and pointed at the creature with his fork. His mouth was full of food as he said, "You two going to eat that?" He stabbed the meat with his fork and transferred it over to his own plate.

Once dinner was finishing up for the boys, they decided to split up a little and look around the ship. Jack warned them not to get into any trouble or he'd throw them overboard. Maurice and Henry wandered over to the table where a whole bunch of freshly caught (yet nevertheless, dead) sea creatures were on display amongst ice cubes. Henry gazed at a lobster, intrigued. "I've never seen one of those things before. Well, before it was cooked at least. Mummy and Daddy have them for supper sometimes." he gaped. Maurice leaned in close to him. "I dare you to touch it," he giggled. Henry eyed him for a moment, a grin slowly spreading across his face. He stood on his tip-toes and reached out towards the clawed animal. A server wearing a white shirt and black bowtie came up right beside him. Henry jerked his hand back. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" he cried out, afraid Jack would follow right behind him to throw him over the railing above. The man chuckled. "It's alright, son. Have you ever seen one before?" he asked.  
"Only cooked. Mummy and Daddy eat them. I didn't know they weren't that red all the time."

The man laughed again. "Would you like to pet it? It won't hurt you. It's been dead for a few hours now." Henry nodded excitedly. Maurice was doing everything he could to restrain his laughter. His friend was about to pet a lobster! He didn't know why this was so funny to him, but inside he was roaring with laughter. The man lifted Henry up by his underarms and held him toward the shellfish. Henry gently stroked the thing's head a few times. When he was put down, he and Maurice started giggling again. They thanked the man as he walked away after patting their heads. Maurice nudged Henry's shoulder. "You _touched_ it!" he sniggered hilariously.

Henry skipped off to go try a lobster tail from the buffet line now that he knew what the actual creature felt like. Once he was gone, Maurice eyed the other animals on the ice. There were sea urchins, clams, mussels, lobsters, shrimp…and then he saw _it_. As soon as it registered in his mind, he thought of a miraculously funny joke to play on his good friend Bill.

Simon and Roger walked up the stairs to the top deck. The sun was setting over the water, casting beautiful orange and blue and purple lights scintillating across the deep indigo of the sea. Simon heaved a relaxed sigh. "This is absolutely beautiful." he said. His brother agreed. "You know," Simon continued. "someday I'd like to take Lucy on a boat like this. Just her and I. When we're older of course, and getting married."

"You're going to get _married_ to her?"

"Maybe. Isn't that how you're supposed to do it? Date someone you really love so that one day you marry them?"

"I suppose so. I'm not sure."

"Well, that aside, I'm still going to take her on here one day. We'll have a splendid time."

"I'm sure she'll love it,"

Simon smiled warmly at Roger, very pleased with the amount of conversing the small boy was doing recently. For no reason at all, he put an arm around his shoulders as they looked over the water. Roger did the same. The two laughed a bit, then Roger quieted. "…If I wasn't…" he began, but stopped. Simon begged him to continue. "If I wasn't…in your family with you, and you hadn't…_saved_ me from myself…then I wouldn't have been able to see this beautiful sight tonight. Or experience that wonderful dinner with those gorgeous people. It's moments like these…that _really_ make me eternally grateful to you and your family." Simon felt tears spring into his eyes. He squeezed his brother's shoulders wordlessly and put their heads close together. "I'm so glad…" he whispered simply before his voice choked.

Jack went up the stairs to look out at the water too. Many of the fancy people congratulated him on his choir's performance, which he graciously thanked them for. Harold was staring out over the bow of the boat. Jack went to him and held onto the railing. "This has been extraordinary," he said. The chocolate-haired boy agreed. "I don't think I've ever eaten that many sea creatures before in my life! Yet they were all so good." he laughed. Jack nudged him gently. "By the way," he said, a little uneasiness in his voice. "Very well done show tonight. I don't think I tell you that personally too often. But you really hit the soprano notes accurately." Harold smiled in surprise. It was very unlike Jack to compliment anyone individually, and the two of them were not close at all. He thanked Jack and shook his hand. Jack began to step away. "Come on, let's go back inside. Once the sun sets it gets cold, and I think there's more desserts on the buffet table." he said. Harold pleasantly followed.

Maurice slunk around the edge of the buffet table, ammo in hand. He crept up beside the choirboys' table and noticed who was around to watch him play his marvelous prank. Henry was interestingly picking at a lobster tail (and swimming the meat in butter), Robert had a plate stacked with desserts before him and was shamelessly pushing truffles into his mouth one after the other, Jack was scolding him for "eating like an animal", and then there was the target: Bill. He was still a little slumped over from feeling seasick. Maurice stalked carefully closer to the table. He went behind Bill's chair. He silently pulled out his weapon from behind his back…

And he whirled a whole _huge_ Blue Crab right in front of the green boy, letting out a loud roar to really scare him good.

Bill jumped a mile and shoved the large crab away from him, letting out a scream of terror. The very sight of a giant sea creature like that made his stomach churn even more. Maurice nearly died laughing. He clutched his sides as he gasped for breath. Jack whipped around to scold him, but was instantly stopped when Bill grabbed his wrist. "I-I'm going to be sick!" he cried out. Jack panicked. He could not have this boy throw up in front of all of these high-class people. He stood up, pulled Bill into the men's restroom, and leaned him over one of the toilets. Bill threw up right there. Jack tried not to look, but comfortingly rubbed his back and held his bangs out of his face.

Jack cleaned Bill up using some towels and water in the restroom. He gently wiped his nose and face as the boy profusely apologized for his stupid behavior. Jack sighed. "You didn't do anything wrong, Bill. It was Maurice who acted stupidly. You can't help being seasick. You didn't know you were even prone to it." he assured. When the two exited the restroom, several party guests and crew members asked if Bill was alright. Jack answered the questions for him and led him back to the table. Maurice was crying with laughter in his seat. The other boys were all laughing too, but silenced when they saw Jack. When Maurice opened his teary eyes and realized the redhead was approaching, his smile dropped, he hopped up, and he ran towards the staircase leading up to the balcony deck. He grabbed a life preserver off the wall there. Jack made sure Bill was seated alright before going after the skinny, hyperactive boy.

When Maurice bolted up the stairs and realized he had nowhere else to run, he hugged the life ring close to him. "Ha! If you throw me over, I'll only float with this thing!" he called as Jack advanced. The choir leader took him forcefully by the ear and led him back downstairs, where he sat him down at a table and gave him a long lecture about manners, dignity, and adulthood.

When the dinner boat pulled into the harbor again, it was nighttime. All of the dazzling little lights on the ship were lit up, and the boys all turned after disembarking to look at the sight once more. Men were helping their elegant ladies step off the platform as the stars and moon twinkled on the water below. "That was grand," Robert said. Everyone agreed with him. Though they were sad to leave the wonderful little boat and all of the memories they'd made, they knew they'd cherish it forever-the laughs, the food, the singing, the bonding.


	20. Visitor

**I got a wonderful request from _Just You Average Writer Here _to write this chapter; my gratitude goes out to you! Thank you everyone for everything you've said and done. I never thought I'd reach twenty chapters! To many more! I hope you like this one. :)**

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Jack raised his hands as he stood on the stage; his beloved choir before him, and an audience of eager parents behind him. It was a practice concert (to be taken very seriously, of course) before their Easter Vigil performance in two weeks. Doing "preview" concerts such as this made the boys really focus on the problem areas and realize what needed praise and what needed fixing. Jack gave the choir the anacrusic, then cued in the altos' E. The sweet, angelic voices filled the auditorium with their song. Every boy had at least one parent there-others had both and some relatives as well. While there were butterflies in the performers' tummies, it made them feel better to look out and see their own families instead of strangers.

Simon's mother waved a small little wave to both of her sons. They were the two shortest in the whole choir; they split center together, Roger being smallest alto, Simon being smallest soprano. Simon cracked a tiny smile when he saw his mummy's loving action. When they finished "Filius Dei", Jack paused to let the audience applaud the boys. As he stepped back and held his arm out to them proudly, Roger seized his chance to give a small wave back.

Jack turned to the choir again as the applause died down. "Alright, last one." he whispered under his breath to them. "Kyrie Eleison," He glanced up at Roger who gave him a nod. He'd been practicing this one hard, trying not to cry. Jack told him to at least mouth the words if his voice failed. But Roger had been feeling so good in Simon's family and doing so much better socially, he had confidence that he'd be alright in this song.

As the choir began singing, one of the theater doors shut, causing a boom to echo during the middle of their song. Footsteps were heard coming in. Some of the boys strained to see who was coming at the very end of a performance. Jack wouldn't be happy about that later, they knew. But it was too dark to distinguish the figure as it staggered over to a row of seats. The song reached its high-pitched climax, which Jack was especially proud of, when things started breaking up. There was a commotion going on in the audience. Jack turned his face slightly to see what the problem was. Viewers were also turning around and trying to get a peek. Once the attention was clearly diverted from the choir, the redhead gave up and cut them all off with a wave of his hands. It was what they heard next that made them all turn white.

"Roger! Roger, come here! Here, my boy! I'm here for you! Roger!"

Roger froze. The boys all turned to stare at him. Simon put a hand on his shoulder and tried to whisper a question, but Roger just grabbed his hand and squeezed it hard. "Roger!" The voice was sharp now. Deep. "Get down _here right now!_" Roger's breathing started to get ragged and quick. "No," he whispered under his breath. "No, no, no…" Simon suddenly felt a twinge of fear inside of him. Something was horribly wrong. The person who was calling for the small boy came closer to the stage. It was a man. A big man. Unshaven, stubbly. Stained clothes. A man that was swaying unsteadily on his feet.

Some boys gasped. Roger clung to Simon's hand and squeezed harder. Simon instantly knew. It was Roger's father. "Roger! Look! All those years you said I never came to a single concert of yours…but now! Look! Here I am!" the man bellowed. Jack knew by the way none of his words were making sense that he had been drinking. Simon protectively wrapped his arms around his brother.

"And…I'm going to take you home with me! Right now!"

Roger turned and clung to Simon; the two held onto each other. "How does that sound, boy? Isn't that what you wanted? Someone to watch you sing, and then take you home? That's what _he_ always did!" Roger cringed. He finally forced his voice to make a sound. "N-No…" he murmured shakily. The man let out a horrid cackle. "Did you think everything would be perfect? You really thought you'd have a safe little home with those people! That you could go away and never see me again!"

Simon's mother jumped from her seat in the audience. "Be quiet, you! He's ours now, he's no longer legally in your care!" she cried. He turned to her unsteadily. "Mummy!" Simon gasped. Mr. Louis stood up protectively in front of his pregnant wife. "Sir, please leave. We have the documents saying that Roger is-"  
"I don't care what those bloody pieces of tree bark say! He's my son! And when I want him, I'll take him!"

Mr. Louis argued, but the swaying man turned away and approached the stage. He started climbing the stairs. He was coming to get Roger. The audience panicked. Jack panicked. The boys screamed. Roger's eyes were wide with pure fear. He pushed Simon off of him. "Don't…w-want you to get hurt…" he murmured. His speech was slipping again. He was very nervous. Jack stepped in front of the beastly man as an attempt to display his authority and drive him back, but Roger's father only stepped past him. He sauntered over to the small boy. The other members of the choir shrunk away. Roger stood facing his father, shaking uncontrollably. The smell of alcohol oozed off of him.

Roger's father stared for a moment. "You…look just like _him_…" he murmured unstably, running a hand down the boy's face. Roger bit his lip in fear. Suddenly, the man drew his hand back and smacked him hard across the face. Everyone screamed. "Call the police!" a woman in the audience shouted. Someone ran out to do just that. Roger felt the sting on his cheek and knew better than to move. His father hit him again, this time knocking him over. The harsh beating continued on the floor. The horrid man shouted unspeakable things at the tiny boy. Simon was screaming as tears washed down his face. Jack gave a whistle. "Choir! Restrain him!" he shouted. Immediately all the boys rushed forward as a group, jumping on the man and pulling at his swinging limbs.

Robert grabbed the huge forearm and pinned it behind his back. Maurice bit into a shoulder. Harold kicked the knee in. Henry put his hands over the eyes to blind the beast. Bill shoved him until he toppled over. Tim beat his back. Charles scratched anywhere he could. Rupert stomped on the feet. Jack and Simon went to Roger, who was curled up on the ground. Parents rushed around, not sure what to do, not sure what was really going on. "Call an ambulance for the boy!" a man shouted. Yet another person ran out to the telephone-booth down the street.

Jack gently scooped Roger up into his arms. He was unconscious. Simon supported the boy's floppy head carefully, still crying and begging his brother to wake up. "Jack," he whimpered. "…Why did this happen?" Jack couldn't respond. All he knew was that he didn't like seeing Roger so limp…so _dead_. Aside from the time he'd fainted during the Nativity play, Jack had never seen him in this bad shape. His face was bloody everywhere. Clumps of hair had been pulled out. Bruises spotted his whole body. "Where's the bloody ambulance?!" he shouted over the hysteria. His choir had brought the beast down onto the ground. Four policemen ran into the auditorium and up to the stage. They grabbed the man. Each boy backed off, screaming and shouting words at the thing they'd taken out. "Show your face here again, I dare you!…Time for a taste of your own medicine!…Throw him in the slammer!…I say life in prison!…Get him!" Maurice suddenly raised his voice and stood in front of them all. "He's the monster! Get him! Get the monster! Bring him down! Get the monster! Bring him down!" he chanted. They all started mimicking his words. The officers forced the man to stand up and began dragging him out the door. Before he was pulled out, he stopped in front of Simon's parents. "I'll have a lawyer! I'm taking him back! You can't keep him! He's not yours!" The man spat right before them. Mr. Louis put his arms out protectively in front of his wife. He raised his head to eye the man and slowly shook his head. "You _are_ a beast," he snarled. The officers kept dragging the drunkard away.

Once he was outside and being shoved into a police car, the choir let out cheers and whoops. The parents were readying the way for the ambulance. Simon bent down and kissed Roger's swollen cheek. "Oh, my brother. Roger. I love you so much." he whispered desperately. Jack rocked the limp boy gently. He felt his choir gather around him. Two paramedics rushed up to the stage carrying a stretcher. "Where's the boy?" they asked. Jack gently helped them lay the broken body on the mobile cot. The boys gazed at him, heartbroken. The two doctors gently performed CPR, keeping aware of the bruised chest. They did everything they could. Roger slowly opened his eyes.

The choir gathered around him. "Roger," Maurice gasped. Jack took the tiny hand. "We love you so much." he told the broken boy. "We all do." Everyone nodded in agreement. "We didn't know…" Bill whispered.

Harold shook his head solemnly. "No more teasing, we promise."

"You get better quick, alright?" Henry told him.

"You're safe with us," Robert assured.

"We all love you very much," Jack repeated.

Roger gazed at them all with hazy eyes. He tried to nod, but everything just hurt _so bad_. The paramedics began to move the stretcher. Both men picked it up and carried it off the stage. They stopped before Simon's parents and asked one to go along with the boy. Mrs. Louis tearfully volunteered. Once the four left, the audience turned to Jack. He looked down at the floor-embarrassed, sad, terrified, heartbroken. Simon was still crying very hard. "Thank you all for coming," Jack murmured. The concert was over.

Simon felt a pair of arms wrap around his shoulders. He leaned into them, expecting it to be a boy or his father, but when he opened his eyes, he realized it was none of them. He gasped and rubbed tears from his face. "Lucy!" he cried. "You came!"

"Of course I did, Simon. I couldn't wait to see you perform." she replied.

The two stared at each other, uneasy looks on their faces. Suddenly they both broke at the same time. They hugged each other and just cried. "I'm…so _sad_ for him!" Simon bawled. Lucy sniffled as she hugged him. "Me too!"

"And…I'm sorry that you…you had to watch that happen!"

"It's alright, Simon. It's alright. I didn't see much. I…was the one that ran outside to call for the ambulance."

Simon looked into her eyes. A wave of immense gratitude washed over him. "Oh, Lucy!" he wailed. "Thank you!" They embraced once more with just as much passion and empathy for each other as before. Lucy felt safer and comforted in Simon's arms. What Simon didn't want her to know was that he felt the same way in hers.

Jack watched as his boys dispersed to their parents, giving them hugs and hearing the elders repeat how much they loved them. He stood on the stage and looked around through the dim light. Mary-Sue should've been there. They always attended each other's concerts for years-in the beginning it was mainly to annoy, point out mistakes, and just be a smirking judge out in the audience. But it had become more special since they were an item again. Presently he couldn't find her in the crowd. Jack's mother and father ran to him and simultaneously threw their arms around his growing frame. Little Jessica was home with the nanny; Jack was secretly glad. As he began to walk off the stage with both parents holding onto him, he had to close his eyes as they stepped over the large pools of blood that came from only one little person.


	21. Recovering and Discovering

**This one's lengthy, and for that I apologize. But I really just wanted all of the details in here once again. I promise, the next chapter will be light and humorous. With every sad chapter, I have to tie it up with a somber one to follow, and this happens to be just that. So please don't give up on me yet. There's more in store! :)**

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Roger lay quietly in his little hospital bed, watching Mrs. Louis fuss over making sure all of the sheets and the quilt stayed tucked around all of his body. He'd been in the hospital for a few days now. All he wanted to do was go home. But the doctors wouldn't let him, because they feared the fracture in his skull would lead to brain damage if not properly watched. His body was so battered-it was the worst beating he'd ever received in the twelve years of his life. Absolutely everything ached. But he felt a little better on the inside because Mrs. Louis stayed with him every moment she could. Then when it was suppertime, Mr. Louis would pick Simon up from choir and they'd all visit him in the little bed. Sometimes they'd even eat dinner with him there, even though he couldn't really move his jaw to eat much normal food.

Jack walked down the sidewalk with his hands shoved into his coat pockets to keep them warm. He was on his way to the hospital to go visit his little friend who'd just recently awoken from the unconsciousness the horrible beating had left him with. He heard someone shout his name as he walked. It was a female's voice. He stopped and turned around to see a young girl wearing a long maroon cloak with a gold badge on both it and her matching hat. He didn't feel like talking to her. As soon as she ran up to him, breathless yet dignified, he turned away. "Jack!" Mary-Sue called. The redhead didn't respond. "Jack," It was a command now. He didn't like anyone using that tone with him. He whirled around. A silence passed between the two choir leaders. She took a breath. "That was some concert you put on last Thursday." she said.

"I don't want to talk about it," he replied coldly.

"And some leadership skills you displayed! Telling your boys to go attack that man. Jack, I thought you were a better leader than that-!"

"What would you have done then?!"

He was shouting now. "What would you have done if you were watching the poor, helpless little boy that you know has big mental issues and a home life where he's been bounced around between families and houses after watching his brother die at the hands of the very man who was attacking him at that moment?!"

"I at least would've kept everyone calm-"

"There was no time for keeping calm! There was no time for anything! You wouldn't understand."

"I do understand, Jack. I'm only giving you critiques as usual."

"…Where were you?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Where were you once they took the man away? I looked for you. I waited for you. But you never came."

"I…I had already gone."

Jack let out a sigh and rolled his eyes. He put his hands on his hips. "You left," he concluded. "You left as soon as he started attacking Roger, didn't you? Because you didn't want to see it." Mary-Sue remained silent. She looked at the ground, her lips gently parted. Jack let out a frustrated sigh. "You were a coward, and yet you feel the need to critique me on my own leadership?" Again, Mary-Sue said nothing. Jack shook his head. "The emotions that I was feeling then, and even now…are just out of control…" His voice broke a bit. She wasn't really sure what to do, so she gently patted his shoulder. "I know," she murmured. Jack immediately felt bad for yelling at her. She was equally as regretful. Both sighed. "My girls and I sent him flowers. The florist said they'd be delivered to his hospital room yesterday." she said, looking away. Jack couldn't look at her either. "That was very kind of you. Please thank your other girls for me too."  
"I will,"  
"Mary-Sue?"  
"Jack,"  
"I do love you,"

It was the first time they'd mentioned the l-word before. Mary-Sue picked her head up. She looked him straight in the eye. after a giving a short nod, she replied, "And I love you too," Jack knew that she was only trying to maintain her composure as she had always been taught to do; as he'd always been taught to do. Feelings couldn't get in the way of their positions. Ever. They kissed goodbye and Jack continued on his way to the hospital, thinking hard about the honesty of his words.

Roger leaned weakly on his back, propped up by some very soft pillows. Mrs. Louis hummed a soft tune as she folded the now clean choir robe and uniform. There came a knock at the door. A nurse opened it, informing the woman that Roger had a visitor. When Maurice walked in, Roger's heart skipped a little out of fear. Instinctively. The skinny boy walked over to his bedside. "Hi, Roger." he said. Roger tried to nod. "I brought you some flowers. My mummy said that they'd brighten the room for you. I see you have quite the collection now." He moved his eyes around the room where several vases of flowers were placed. Maurice set his on the bedside table. He remained silent for a little bit, then he sighed. "You look a mess." he murmured truthfully. Roger lowered his eyes and nodded understandingly. "I hate that man. And I know you do too. So put together, we hate him double as much." Maurice explained. He studied Roger's battered face. "Woah," he said as he leaned closer. He was intrigued by the deep red line that was crossed by several black threads along the boy's cheek. "How did they do that?" he asked curiously.

"Stitches," Roger replied with some difficulty.

"Wow…stitches…"

"Sewed. They sewed my face. A big cut was there. Blood."

Maurice ran his finger down it gently. "It feels like real thread!" he exclaimed in amazement. Despite the pain and trouble brought along with it, Roger gave a half-smile at his friend's curiosity. Maurice didn't stay long, but when he was leaving, he paused to give Roger a very careful hug.

Simon and his father came in next. As usual, the small boy bounded up to the bed and greeted his brother cheerfully. "Roger! Roger! Daddy and I brought you something!" he cried out. Mr. Louis was holding something behind his back. Simon rushed to him and asked permission to give whatever it was to Roger. His father grinned and nodded, carefully concealing the object in his son's arms. Simon crawled onto the bed beside the battered boy. "Last time I was here, you said you were lonely in bed all by yourself at night."  
"Miss snuggling you…"  
"I miss sleeping beside you too. So does Stormy. She just sits at the end of our bed as if she's waiting for you to come back. But anyway, for the rest of the time that you're here, we thought this might help you get some rest normally."

Simon pulled out a stuffed teddy bear that was fluffy and warm. He gently moved Roger's heavily bruised arm and slipped the toy under it, replacing the arm around it. "Daddy and I thought maybe it would help you," he repeated gently. Roger couldn't stop the smile spreading across his face. He almost didn't feel the pain out of his pure happiness. "Thank you…" he whispered. He looked up at Mr. Louis and repeated himself. The man smiled gently and kissed the top of his head. Mr. Louis told his wife about his day as the two brothers sat together on the bed. Simon had recently found a way to sit close to Roger under the sheets without hurting him. They huddled shoulder to shoulder as the choirboy filled the battered boy in about all the school news and choir happenings for the day.

When Jack entered the room, Simon crawled off the bed and just went to his parents. He knew from rehearsal just a few hours previous that Jack was neither having a good day or in a good mood at all. The redhead nodded hello to the Louis family, then sat on the edge of Roger's bed. He placed his bouquet on the bedside table, nudging Maurice's over a bit to make room. Roger hugged his new teddy bear and avoided eye contact. Jack was silent for a long time. He sighed. "Lots of visitors?" he asked, a little unsteadily. Roger nodded. "Maurice. Simon. Mr. and Mrs. Louis. Bill. Robert. And Harold. Lucy." he answered. Jack gave a half-smile. "It looks like you're growing a garden in here with all the flowers you've received."

"Mary-Sue,"

"Yes, she told me about the flowers she'd sent."

"Thank her,"

"Of course I will for you, Roge."

Jack fell silent again. There was something so heartbreaking about looking at that little face, so bruised and cut; that scrawny neck, all red and scratched; that tiny chest, broken and so pitifully black-and-blue. Those eyes that were full of just unending love. Hope. The redhead turned away. "D-Does it still hurt?" he whispered.

"…Yes…"

"…Roger…I'm not going to let that happen ever again. So help me _God _I'll never let that happen again. I'll never let anything bad happen you ever again. Oh, I promise. I _promise_, Roger."

Jack felt tears leap into his eyes. "You were so…happy. In such a good place. You had a home, a family; you were healthy and getting stronger. You could communicate again and your connection with others was increasing. Then someone…some _monster_ came and completely robbed you of all of that. He left you like this. Oh _my God_…" The tears fell now, from both of their eyes. Roger buried his face into the teddy bear's softness. "I feel…I feel so _guilty_…!" Jack sobbed. Roger gasped for rattling breath. "Why…" he whispered.  
"I don't even know why…I just do! My moods lately have been so…so out of control…"

"…I ruin everything…"

"No! No! Roger, don't say that! Please don't say that! No, you didn't ruin anything. I just…have a lot going on right now."

"Mary-Sue,"

"I know, she sent you flowers."

"She came,"

Jack froze. He looked up at the boy. "W-What?"  
"She came last night. Asked me about you."

"What did she ask?"

"If you were mad. At her. Or how you were. Had I seen you."

"Did you answer?"

"Said I didn't know. Thanked her for the flowers. She cried."

"She…cried?"

"Told me she really loved you. But didn't want to get too close and distract you. I don't understand."

"…I just saw her today and she spoke not a word about it. Not even about visiting you."

"Honest. She came."

Jack let in a shaky breath. "I don't know what to do about anything anymore…" he whimpered. Roger extended his destroyed arms carefully. He and Jack embraced. "It's alright." he whispered. "It will be alright."  
"…She…she wasn't truthful with me today…yet I was truthful to her when I said that I loved her…"

"Sometimes, you have to let someone go to make them realize how much they really did love you."

Jack kissed the top of Roger's head as soon as he heard the boy's words. "Oh, you're so smart. You're so brilliant. Roger, I'm not ever going to let anything bad happen to you again. You and me, we're a team from here on out. Understand? Just you and me. We're the top two in the choir. You're my second-in-command. That way…that way I can always have you near-safe." he whispered. Roger cried quietly.

After Jack dried his tears and composed himself, he left. Simon crawled back onto the bed. "I brought you your sketchbook and some pencils," he said. "I thought maybe it would give you something to do as you healed." He handed Roger the black book and two pencils. The beaten boy smiled. Simon snuggled back in beside him, just watching him sketch away on a blank piece of paper.

Mr. and Mrs. Louis sat on two chairs, looking at the boys from a distance. The man sighed. "What are we going to do?" he whispered. His pregnant wife touched his arm. "You know that horrible excuse for a man won't be in prison for long. When he gets out…he really will get a lawyer. He'll try to take Roger away-" He stopped short when his voice choked. Mrs. Louis sighed and closed her eyes. "We'll fight it. We'll get a lawyer too. I'm not letting that child go back to the hell he came from."  
"Neither am I,"  
"We can do this. I just know it."  
"Oh, I hope you're right my darling…"  
"It's just a hard time for everyone. It will pass, dear. Soon everything will be alright again. Even all the boys seem to be having troubles of their own. It's just difficult right now. But it'll be alright."

The pair joined hands and leaned close to each other. They watched as their boys eventually drifted to sleep together, heads leaning on each other's shoulders.


	22. Grocery Shopping

**Here's the fun one! Yay! I hope you enjoy it :)**

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Robert swung the big pantry doors open and hungrily raked over the shelves with his eyes. "Mummy, do we have any cheese?" he called. His mother looked up from washing dishes. "If we do, darling, it would be in the refrigerator-not the pantry." she answered, raising an eyebrow at her son's odd method of searching for food. He looked through the fridge. As he closed the door, he sighed and sank to the floor, back against the steel. His mother gave a half-smile. "What ever is the matter, dear?" she asked. He heaved another dramatic sigh. "There's nothing to eat." he complained. His mother dried the final plate and went to where her boy was on the floor. She crouched down. "Then it sounds like we need to go to the grocery store," she said, smiling when Robert's excitement broke through. He loved going shopping for food with her. Neither knew why, but Robert found it amusing and interesting. He was in the car and ready long before she'd even picked up her car keys.

As his mother browsed the aisles, Robert looked around at all of the shelves of wonderful food. When she wasn't looking, he would sneak a thing or two into the cart that he wanted (and wasn't on the specific list) and hide it under the other items they'd picked up. Robert was always curious about trying new things. His mother pinned it on him being a "growing boy with changing tastes", but he felt that he really just enjoyed eating. He wasn't an overweight boy by any means. He was healthy-looking. But a growing metabolism kept his little tummy begging for more filling and his taste buds crying out for something new.

To say Robert's mother was surprised when she heard the total at the checkout line would be an understatement.

As she frantically dug through the bags of items and found everything that Robert had snuck in, she nearly lost it on him. But he gave her his usual charming smile and said, "But Mummy, you and Daddy always say that I'm a growing boy. My tastes are just changing. I'm curious," His priceless smile and cheeky eyes made her displeasure lessen. She sighed and rumpled his hair. She couldn't fight an argument she'd made herself.

Bill's mother and father usually went to the grocery store together after his father got home from work and his siblings returned from school. The whole family would go. Bill didn't mind, because he liked to wander and see the new items the store would have displayed. He liked to figure prices, tax, and percent-off calculations in his head as he read the signs. But the main reason why he liked going to the grocery store was to see the lobsters in the tank.

Every week when they'd go down aisle six, which was directly across from the seafood stand, he'd mutter to them that he'd be across the way and hurry over to the big bubbling tank that had some lobsters crawling around the bottom. He had a name for every one. Bill distinguished each either by a noticeable physical attribute or the color of the rubber bands that clamped each large claw. He stood in front of that tank and just smiled. "Hi Gustaf," he said. "Hello Martha. Greetings, Sam. How are you, George? Nice haircut, Jimmy. Good to see you again Becky." As he tapped on the glass to get the sea creatures to stir a bit, he noticed that one was missing. The seafood man came up behind the counter. "Hello, Bill. How's school?" he asked, used to seeing the small blonde around his selling area. Bill nodded politely. "Hi Mr. Gary. School's been just fine, thanks. Excuse me, but have you seen Helga lately? I can't seem to find her in this tank."

"Helga?"

"The lobster with the bright purple bands on her claws. They were her bracelets. She liked to be fancy. But I don't see her in here. Has she been around?"

The seafood man bit his lip. He didn't have the heart to tell Bill that his precious "Helga" had been bought and boiled up in someone's cooking pot. So he instantly thought up a little story to hide it. "Well you see, Bill…Helga went to a party. Yeah, that's right. She got all ready for weeks wearing her purple bracelets because she was trying to find a dress to match. Well, she found one alright, and when she put it on, she left for the party that was being hosted by the clams and oysters in the back room. So I believe she'll probably just stay there. It's sort of like a hotel." he fibbed. Bill laughed. "A dress? Lobsters wear _dresses_?"

"Saw it with my own eyes,"

"Well, alright. If you should see her though, I tell I wish her well with her new friends."

"Alright, son."

Bill skipped back over to his family as they proceeded with their full cart to the checkout line.

Maurice was nowhere near as calm in a grocery store. As he and his mother made their way down every aisle, his nose became an expert detective for free samples. He sniffed the air as they were about to round a corner. "Mummy! I smell crumb cake! May I have a piece? May I? Please, Mummy?" he cried excitedly, tugging on the sleeve of her pink sweater. His mother sighed as she diverted her attention from her very important shopping list to figure out what her son was begging her for. As he wildly gestured at the sample table, she agreed to let him go taste some. He bolted away at full speed towards the kindly old woman who was portioning out some samples of strawberry crumb cake.

Maurice tapped his foot eagerly as he waited behind a couple that was getting their taste. They were discussing in detail the flavor and inner workings of baking a crumb cake from scratch with the woman. Maurice became impatient. He squeezed between the young couple. "Excuse me," he squeaked out. His nose was filled with the sweet scent of tasty dessert. He reached for the little plate that seemed to be calling his name, but was stopped by a soft tsking. The old woman was looking down at him with an eyebrow raised but a smile on her lips. "Where's your mother, dear?" she asked. Maurice pointed back at the lady in the pink sweater. "She's right there. She said I could have some. I promise."  
"I'll need her permission first, dear. Only as a precaution."  
"But I don't want to wait in line again!"  
"I'm sorry, love."

Maurice turned around and faced his mother. "MUMMY!" he hollered across the store. "MUMMY! CAN YOU PLEASE TELL THIS LADY THAT I'M ALLOWED TO HAVE A SAMPLE?!" His mother looked up, eyes wide, mortified at her son's behavior. She waved her hands to tell him to quiet down. "IS THAT A YES OR A NO?!" he continued to shout. She put her hands over her face in exasperation. The old woman, embarrassed now that multiple customers were looking right in her direction, pushed the plate towards the small boy. He happily accepted it and skipped towards his mother, oblivious to the attention he'd attained.

Simon held onto the side of the shopping cart as his mother moved slowly through the aisles. She was always very particular about the items she chose. Simon never minded. He enjoyed the relaxed pace she took because it gave him a chance to just enjoy the quiet and think. Roger timidly followed behind them. He didn't really like to be right up beside the two, even with Simon, because he felt he didn't belong there. It was just one of his personal insecurities. The two boys were very quiet in the store, and didn't make any waves like their choir friends.

A woman was watching from a distance as Mrs. Louis read the ingredients on a package of crackers. Roger noticed. Simon (being the avid reader that he was) was too busy reading a flyer he'd picked up that contained some coupons to see her start approaching them. She tapped Mrs. Louis' shoulder. When the young pregnant mother turned around, she was surprised a bit. The middle-aged woman smiled. "I do beg your pardon, ma'am. But I just wanted to compliment you on your children's behavior. They're so respectful and good!" she said sweetly. Mrs. Louis smiled and patted Simon's head. "Thank you very much, ma'am. I truly appreciate that!" she replied. Roger nervously hid behind her skirt as he stared at the stranger. His tiny hands curled themselves around the back of her shirt in anxiety. He didn't want to be seen. Not with all these injuries. It would make the Louis family look like something they weren't.

The woman chuckled as Simon folded the coupon flyer and smiled at her. "They're both so adorable. Such sweet boys. Are they fraternal twins?" she asked. Mrs. Louis laughed. "No, they aren't ma'am." she replied, not sure what to call Roger. A foster child? No, that sounded too temporary. The younger of the two? No, because then they'd be actual brothers. She began slowly.

"This one, Simon, is my own. And Roger here-"

"I'm adopted," Roger finished quickly for her, then ducked behind her skirt once more.

The stranger thought for a moment, then smiled blissfully. "Well they're both extremely fine young fellows." she complimented. The women bid each other goodbye and continued on their ways. Mrs. Louis bit her lip. Roger thought he was adopted. He thought it was truly permanent. Yet the impending threat of his father taking them to court to obtain custody again…she didn't want to think about that. At the checkout counter, she told both boys to pick out a piece of candy as a reward for their good behavior and to cheer herself up with their smiles of gratitude.

Jack walked along with his little sister Jessica as they followed their parents through the produce section. Jessica was always full of questions. "Jackie," she asked. "What's a grapefruit?"  
"It's a very sour orange, almost." he answered.  
"Have you ever eaten one?"  
"No, I haven't. I don't intend to either. It's rather sharp."

They kept walking. Jessica pointed at an oddly-shaped root. "Jackie, what's that thing?"  
"That's a ginger root. Remember those gingerbread cookies Mummy bakes at Christmastime? Well, that's what gives them their flavor."  
"Jackie, what is that big brown thing that looks like a bowling ball?"  
"It's a coconut,"  
"So whenever you call your friend Henry a 'coconut-head', you mean he looks like that?"  
"Er…not exactly, Jess…"

Jessica continued jabbering all of her questions. Jack didn't mind of course; he knew she was just curious about everything. At the checkout line, Jack bought a candy bar to share with the five-year-old. His parents smiled at each other as they watched him take the money out of his own wallet and hand it to the cashier, in the meantime breaking the treat in half and handing it to his sister. As they left the store, Jessica happily munching on her candy, his father patted his shoulder approvingly. Jack grinned. Above all things, he enjoyed seeing his family proud of him.


	23. Playdate with the Primary School

**This was a pretty fun one to write! I hope you like it as much as I did! Thank you for your unending support, as always. It makes me so happy!**

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Bill, Robert, and Harold walked along together towards the Good Shepherd Primary School Daycare building in the city. None were particularly happy about it; Jack had told them that the whole choir was needed to help out at the center for toddlers because the normal supervisors would all be attending a safety meeting. Since they knew the Merridews well and thought Jack to be a very responsible young boy, they offered him and his choir the opportunity to care for the children for the day. Robert grumbled as they walked. "I don't like little children," he informed them. "I have three little brothers and a baby sister and I can't stand any of them. They're all too noisy."  
"My mummy and daddy never put me in a daycare before I went to regular school. How can these kids stand to be starting learning so early?" Harold concurred. Bill sighed. "Hopefully this day will go by quick. Then we can just go home."

The three entered the large stone building and had their vision attacked by varying shades of the primary colors. Maurice was standing by the sign-in counter rubbing his eyes. "It burns!" he said dramatically when they approached him. Just as the three were about to agree with him, they stopped before they had to eat their words. Jack walked up behind them, holding a small girl's hand. She had feathery red hair that was pulled into two pigtails and hung in ringlets. Her little jumper was neatly ironed. There was a big smile spread across her face. Jack knelt beside her. "Jessica, these are my friends from school. They're going to be helping out here today." he introduced. She shyly hid her face behind her pink lunchbox but kept her eyes peeking out just a little. Jack pointed to each of them. "That tall one is Robert, the wavy-haired blonde is Bill, the long-bangs boy is Harold, and you can always tell who - and where - Maurice is because he never shuts his mouth. You'll hear him before you see him." Maurice grinned and waved, taking it as a compliment instead of a snap like Jack had intended it to be. Jack led little Jessica Merridew over to more boys that were beginning to congregate near the door to the classroom. These were the early-comers - already signed in and everything. Jack got their attention by calling out, "Choir! Attention!"

The boys all stood up straighter and halted their conversations. They faced Jack obediently. Jessica giggled at her brother's control. Jack introduced her to them. "Boys, this is my little sister Jessica. Jessica, that boy right there - the one with the hair that I've told to cut _too_ many times now - is Henry. The three tall ones standing in the back are Tim, Charles, and Rupert. And see those two dark-haired boys? You'll like them. The one with freckles on his cheeks is Simon; he's very nice. And…that other one right there is Roger." Jack finished his introduction unstably. What do you say about a Roger? Simon crouched in front of the little girl who went right back to hiding majority of her face behind the pink lunchbox. He extended his hand to her. "My lady," he greeted playfully, but with a serious expression of course. She put her small hand in his and he gave it a kiss. Jessica giggled. She pulled on Jack's sleeve and whispered something into his ear. Jack grinned. "Of course he believes you're a princess. All of the boys do. I've told them all about you, your Highness." he said with a wink towards his boys. They all shared a bit of a chuckle. Roger took a step back to be slightly behind Simon. Jessica was staring at him uneasily. She whispered into Jack's ear again. This time, Jack didn't smile. He just patted her shoulder. "You will like him. I promise." he assured his sister.

The secretaries got through signing all the choirboy volunteers and daycare children in, and unlocked the doors to the classroom. As soon as the little kids got inside, they began taking their seats at their tables and putting their lunch-pails away. Jack gathered the boys together. "Alright, we're all going to split up and do a center for each group of four kids. Just until noon. Then they have naptime, then snack. Same thing for after that as well. Understand?" he asked. His boys nodded. "Alright then. Tim, Charles, and Rupert, you all will go to the book center and help the kids choose an easy read - a picture book or something. Harold, Robert, and Henry, I'd like for you three to be in the blocks center so the children can build towers and play with cars and stuff, yes? Bill and Maurice, do I _dare_ put you two goons together? I sure hope that the building still stands at the end of the day, then. Both of you are going to man the dollhouse/kitchen set center. Just watch them and make sure no one tries to swallow any of the plastic food again. And should I see one little slip up, I'll have you both out of here so fast your heads will spin. Simon and Roge, you're doing the art center." he laid out the orders formally. They boys assembled and went to their respective parts of the room.

Jack welcomed all the children and named everyone in his choir off as an introduction. The young little ones looked at each boy in astonishment, that such important people were among them in their own classroom. They conformed into their groups of four and each chose a center to start off in. Jack walked around the room and supervised as if he was the actual teacher.

Robert sat down beside a small boy that was stacking blocks up into the shape of a square tower. "What are you building?" he asked. The little boy shrugged. "I want to make a house, but I don't have any triangle-shaped blocks for the roof." he replied. Robert looked around. A little girl nearby had all the triangle blocks and was playing with them. "I think she has them all," Robert told him as he pointed. The boy looked at the girl, but immediately looked away. "She doesn't like to share."  
"Did you ask her?"  
"I always ask. I've been trying to make a house for days. But she never shares the blocks with me."

Robert felt bad for the little kid. He glanced over one more time to look at the girl. Harold was now sitting beside her, talking to her quietly. Robert helped the boy he was with make a taller and studier little structure with the rectangles he was left to play with.

Harold asked the little girl what she was making. She sighed. "I want to make a nice building. But that boy over there never shares his rectangles with me. You can't make a tower completely out of triangles, you know." she informed him. Harold nodded. "How about I go over and ask my friend if he'd like to share with us? Then we could make a big building together."  
"Hmmm…that sounds alright,"  
"Great. Give me one moment and I'll be back in a jiff."

Harold crawled over on his hands and knees to Robert. "Hey," he said. "Share the rectangles." Robert crossed his arms. "I'm not sharing these rectangles. You're girl's the one that won't give us any triangles."  
"Well we can't make out tower with just triangles, you know."  
"And we can't make a house without a roof."  
"So share the rectangles! We'll trade some."  
"No! Not until you forfeit the triangles."  
"I'm not just going to give them up to you!"  
"No fair!"  
"Stop!"

The two got into an argument and started pushing each other. Jack scrambled over and pulled them apart. "What in the bloody world are you doing?!" he hissed. The boys pointed at each other and simultaneously whined, "He won't share!"  
"Look around you. The five-year olds are behaving better than you are right now. Work something out like the near-teenagers you are or suffer my consequences."

Jack shoved them and walked away. Both boys eyed each other and crossed their arms. "I'm not giving up." Harold said. "Me neither!" Robert agreed. Henry came walking up with a big box nearly overflowing with blocks of different shapes. "Look boys and girls, I found another whole box of shapes in the storage closet that we can play with!" he exclaimed. All of the little ones in the group ran over and began digging through. There were more triangles and more rectangles. Anything each child needed, they received. Harold and Robert blinked unbelievingly. They both gave an embarrassed giggle. "Oops," Robert muttered.

Maurice sat amongst some of the little girls who were all playing with dolls in the household/kitchen center. One of them came up and tugged his sleeve. "You're my husband, ok? And we're married so we have this baby." she explained. Maurice giggled nervously. "I've got someone just like you that lives next door to me…" he said. She put the doll in his arms. "You take care of the baby, dear, while I go fix supper." said the little girl as she toddled off to the play kitchen set. Bill was pretending to eat some of the plastic food the girls had "cooked" for him. He was laughing and seemingly having a good time. "Would you wonderful chefs mind making me some dessert? After that four-course dinner, I need something sweet to settle in." he asked them. Immediately, the girls flitted away to prepare him plastic desserts. Once they broke away, Bill crawled over to Maurice and stared at him. Maurice had zoned out a bit, lost in his thoughts as he waited for his little wife to return. Bill waved a hand in front of his friend's face. Maurice snapped back to attention. "What's up, Bill?" he asked. Bill raised and eyebrow. "You alright?  
"I'm fine, why?"  
"I don't know,"  
"What were you going to say?"  
"Nothing,"  
"No really, what made you think I wasn't alright?"  
"Well…you've kinda been sitting there just rocking that doll for a while now. It looked weird."

Maurice looked down. The moment after he realized that he really had been rocking a plastic toy all that time, he let out his trademark cackling laugh. He only solidified his rationale that he was the funniest person he'd ever met. Bill joined in giggling too, simply because indeed it was a funny sight, but also that Maurice's constant laughter could make anyone crack even the tiniest of smiles. It was just that kind of laugh.

Roger and Simon sat at a round table and just supervised the children's artistic creation process. Occasionally, they were asked for inspiration. Simon really enjoyed working with them. He found them all to be so inquisitive and curious; yet at the same time absolutely adorable. He couldn't wait to have a little sibling. Roger wasn't really a fan of this activity. Too many little hands grabbed at him constantly. Runny noses grossed him out a bit. And when a young boy raised his hand and informed Jack that he'd went to the bathroom in his own pants, Roger decided he wanted to leave. Simon sensed his discomfort. He fetched a clean white piece of paper and a pencil for his foster brother. "Just draw," he whispered. "I'm sure they'd love to watch you as much as I do." Roger gave him a warm smile. He brushed off his paper to rid of any invisible imperfections and set to work. Sure enough, the children ooh-ed and ah-ed in amazement as his sketching caught their attention.

Jack clapped his hands and instructed all of the children to collect their snacks and sit on the octagonal rug in front of the rocking chair. All of the little ones rushed over, eager to see the next activity. As they munched on their pretzel sticks and apple slices and marshmallows, Jack whispered to his choir. "Usually the teacher reads them a book while they eat. Who volunteers to read aloud?" he asked. Maurice's hand flew into the air. "Please, Jack. I'm _so_ good at reading. I promise. Please. I won't let you down. Please, Jack." he begged quickly with absolute earnest. The redhead rolled his eyes. "I fear the consequences of allowing you to do that. No. I want Roger to read it." Roger's face fell. "No, please. Please don't make me do this. I volunteer Maurice." he gasped out, suddenly shaking. Simon rubbed his shoulders gently. "It's alright, Roge. Just imagine that you'll be reading to our little baby sibling someday. It's the same thing here. Except there's more of them." he eased. Jack grabbed the small boy's arm and led him towards the rocking chair.

As Roger was flung into the wooden seat, he gulped. Sixteen pairs of eyes stared him down eagerly. Jack put a book in his lap and stepped back. He watched carefully from a distance. His reasoning behind denying a charismatic and charming boy like Maurice and instead choosing a shy and uncomfortable Roger was so that he could get the small boy to actually use sentences; he wanted him to start communicating as well as he used to before the attack from his father at the concert. Getting him over that fear of speaking would push him farther. Roger cleared his throat nervously. The choirboys were all sitting behind the snacking children cross-legged, eager to hear his voice. Roger inhaled. "It's called 'The Bunny Goes to the Beach'." he said.

He flipped the page and began reading. "Once upon a time, a little bunny was curious about where fish came from. He and his mummy bunny took a trip to the ocean." he read quickly, holding up the book to show the little kids the illustration. He kept reading, getting a bit more comfortable as he went. That didn't make it easy of course. He was sweating like mad. But Jack seemed to approve, so he figured he was doing alright. When they reached the part of the story where the little bunny lost his favorite shovel while making sandcastles, a little boy started crying. "I lost my pail at the beach once! The waves took it away!" he sobbed. Roger sighed. "Gone now." he said, just trying to get the kid to shut up so he could finish the bloody story already and be done with it. The boy bawled now, tears running from his eyes as if they were faucets. Maurice knew what to do. Always the jokester and livewire of the group, he hopped on his hands and knees over to the boy and crouched in front of him. "_Ribbit!_" he called. The children giggled. "Look at me! I'm a froggy! Look at me!" he said humorously. "_Ribbit! Ribbit!_" He hopped around the boy in a circle. When he stopped in front of him once more, he put his hands to the sides of his head and wiggled his fingers. The boy was laughing now. He wiped away his tears with the back of his hand and clapped when Maurice finished his funny performance. Roger sighed and continued reading.

Once the story was over, the children applauded Roger's storytelling. He climbed off the chair, losing his balance a bit when it rocked forward, and immediately went to Simon and Jack. Simon hugged him. "You did wonderful! Our sibling is going to love you," he complimented. Roger blushed and hugged him back. Jack patted his shoulder. "Well done, Roge. I knew you could do it." he said and gave a wink. The redhead instructed everyone to get out their nap mats and blankets - it was rest time. The little ones did as they were told, but it seemed the boys were more excited for nap time than they were.

The children all curled up on their little mats and dozed off. Jack tucked Jessica in under her favorite pink blanket and kissed her cheek. When he stood up to have a meeting with his choir, he was instantly surprised. All of the boys had gone off to the other side of the room and curled up together. Most were already sleeping. Jack let out a sigh and shook his head, unable to stop a grin from spreading across his face. Bill was lying flat on his back, and Maurice had his head resting on the boy's stomach as a pillow as he lay perpendicular to the blonde. Robert and Harold decided to put Henry between them so they could spread his cloak out to its fullest length to use as a makeshift blanket. Simon and Roger were both beginning to lie down. They huddled together and whispered softly to each other. Simon was absolutely beaming as he pushed some of Roger's hair out of his eyes and tucked the cloak around himself. Roger patted his shoulder a few times, then both closed their eyes. Jack held in a chuckle. For being so much older and "wiser" as the boys thought they were, he knew they never imagined little children could exhaust them so quickly.


	24. Checkups

**Hello everyone! I thought this one up kinda quick. I hope you enjoy it! Please feel completely free to give me ANY ideas you want to see happen to the boys. I love hearing from you. Thanks for your awesomeness in supporting me! :)**

* * *

Roger nervously picked at his fingernails as he sat in the chair that was much too big for him. Mrs. Louis sat beside him, filling out a form on a clipboard. Simon was to his left. He swung his feet patiently. Roger shivered - it was cold in this waiting room. Mrs. Louis reached across him to her biological son. "Simon," she whispered. "Do Mummy a favor and bring this up to the nurse behind the front desk," Simon did as he was told . When he returned, he touched his small brother's shoulder. "Are you alright? There's nothing to be scared of," he said softly. Roger kept shaking. He stared hard at the ground. "Look, I'm going in there right after you and I'm not scared." Simon continued gently. Roger gave a shrug of the shoulders. Mrs. Louis bent down and hugged him over her round stomach. "It's alright, love. It'll be just fine. It's only a checkup." she assured softly. A nurse came around the corner and looked at her clipboard. "I'm looking for a Roger?" she asked aloud. Mrs. Louis touched his arm. "Would you like me to go with you?" she asked. The dark-haired boy shook his head. With some encouragement from his little family, he limped towards the nurse.

From there, she led him back to a scale. "Go ahead and take your shoes off and stand on this metal part here." she instructed. Roger did. as she measured out the numbers and balanced that little thingy at the top, Roger saw her write down the number 62.4. She sighed a bit. "Did you know how skinny you are? We'll have to talk to your mummy about putting you on a special diet." she commented. Roger gulped. She took record of his height. He measured up to be four feet, eleven inches. Again, she sighed, and just led him into a cold, sterile room.

The nurse put Roger up on the little bed and took his blood pressure and temperature. Just as she finished, the doctor came in. "Hello there, son." he greeted cheerfully. Roger didn't respond. The man sat down in a small chair and began writing on the inside of a manila folder. The nurse tugged Roger's shirt and shorts off. She dropped off his paperwork before the doctor and left the room. Roger sat there, shivering in his little underwear, in complete silence. The doctor looked over the papers. "So you're weighing in a bit low, huh? Well, that'll be alright. We'll talk to your mummy once your checkup is done about putting you on a special eating plan to boost that weight. At your age, you should be weighing about eighty to eighty-five pounds. Possibly even ninety. Now, moving on. Have you been sleeping well?" the man asked. Roger shook his head. "I can tell. You've got some dark circles going on beneath your eyes. Is there a reason why you don't sleep?"

"…It's hard," the boy murmured.

"Hard getting to sleep or staying asleep?"

"Getting to sleep,"

"Can you describe to me what it's like when you lay in bed?"

"…I lay down near Simon, we say goodnight, I close my eyes. And I wait like that. With my eyes closed. Simon falls asleep right away but I don't because my mind won't shut off and I hear noises around the house that scare me so I can't relax and I'm scared all the time and I can't fall asleep."

"…That was a lot all at once, son. But I think I understand what you're saying. You're just scared at night? Your body can't relax?"

"I suppose,"

The doctor wrote some stuff down. He stood up and approached the small boy, smiling gently and explaining the next few procedures. "How does your skull feel? Are you still a little sore?" he asked. Roger shook his head. The doctor nodded. "Very good. Well, today's the day you get the stitches out of your cheek. I'll bet you're excited. I'd like for you to keep the bandages around your head though. Just for a few more weeks. I don't want anything happening to that fragile little skull of yours. Now turn your face to the side so I can get my scissors right under the thread here…"

When Roger came back into the waiting room, he kept his head down and immediately curled up onto the chair he'd been sitting in previously. He pulled his knees close to his chest. The doctor came out shortly after and handed a slip of paper to Mrs. Louis. "I wrote out some things I'd like to try with him. To better his sleeping and eating habits, that is. Go ahead and give that a read while I take your other son in, alright? If you have any questions at all, don't hesitate to ask." he explained. Mrs. Louis nodded.

**X x X**

The nurse had Simon stand on the scale. "Hm…well, you're four feet, ten inches…and it looks like your weight is coming in at 85.6 pounds. Nice and healthy. Good job, little one." she complimented. Simon smiled politely and followed her into the white room. He sat on the bed. as the doctor readied more paperwork, she undressed him and took his blood pressure. Once everything was deemed fine, the doctor had a look at him. "You're looking great, Simon. Blood pressure is fine, weight looks good, you're a little on the shorter side but in time I'm sure you'll grow, and your heartbeat sounds superb." he checked off. Simon thanked him. "Now, is the medication you're taking compromising anything of yours? Vision, hearing, tummy, anything?" he continued. Simon shook his head. "No, sir."

"And how are the fainting spells?"

"They've been occurring like normal. Nothing too out of the ordinary, sir."

"Alright, and do you think that maybe they're happening less or more or the same?"

"The same. But I feel like I'm waking up sooner after falling. Or so my family says."

"That's good. Any more spasms? Seizures?"

"No, just the fainting. I haven't had a shaking spell for a year now."

"Excellent. It sounds like that medication is really doing the trick."

The doctor released Simon back to his mother. When she heard that he was doing great and was very healthy, she beamed and kissed his cheek. Roger, on the other hand, stayed curled up by himself. All he wanted to do was profusely apologize to the wonderful woman for his faulty body. She didn't make him feel like he had to. In fact, she'd given him several random hugs ever since he came out of that room. On the way out the door, she told the boys she would take them out to a restaurant of their choice for lunch. Both little ones were excited. She made sure Roger got a big meal and ate every bite. She bought them a dessert to share also - that weight _had_ to come up.

**X x X**

Bill followed the nurse that called him into the checkup room like a duckling. She had him stand on a piece of tape and look at a poster that was on the far end of the hallway. "Read line five for me, please." she instructed. Bill squinted. The nurse tapped her pencil. "Ah, ah, ah. No leaning forward or squinting your eyes. Just do the best you can." she said. Bill sighed.

"D…P…Q…R…C…E."

"And read the line above it, please."

"N…J…S…W…H…and I think that's a T. No, an I. No….yeah it is a T."

"Well, Bill, out of twelve letters, you only got seven correct. It looks like you might need to wear specs sooner or later."

Bill's eyes widened in shock. "No! I don't want to wear specs! There's a kid I see at school sometimes that wears them, and he looks like a fat elf!" he panicked. the nurse laughed. "Perhaps you can wait a bit so your eyes can get worse. It's easier to correct that way. But specs aren't bad, Bill. In fact, they're quite stylish." she said. He sighed heavily. "But I'm a _boy_."

**X x X**

Maurice's visit to the doctor's went far from smoothly. It started before he even got into the waiting room. Worse, before he even got into the _building_. He'd refused to get out of the car because he was too afraid he was going to need an injection. His mother hand to physically sling him over her shoulder and carry him in like a surfboard to get him into the building. He screamed as she carried him, begging her not to make him go. As much as she assured him that he _would not_ need any immunizations, he wouldn't believe her. He even went as far as to cling to the doorframe when she tried to simply get into the waiting room.

His height proved to be a little on the tall side and his weight was normal, but as the poor nurse was taking all this down, he kept playing with the little balance square at the top of the scale. He'd swat it back and forth, messing up her careful calculations. Every time she'd reset the balance, he'd screw with it. After several fails, she swatted his wrist. He let out an embarrassed giggle. The nurse seized his arm and dragged him into the room. The doctor just observed as Maurice wandered around the small space in just his underwear, looking at all the jars of band-aids and cotton balls. The man leaned over to the woman and whispered into her ear. "Do you think we should medicate him?"  
"Up to you, doc. He's quite the ball of energy though."

The doctor finally got Maurice to sit on the bed so he could listen to his heartbeat. As he moved the stethoscope around, he asked, "Maurice, do you find yourself to be energetic?"

"I like to laugh a lot," the boy answered.

"Alright, but I mean like are there times where you can't calm yourself down?"

"Usually I can. I choose not to though. I like exploring and running and making jokes, and choir and stuff."

"Well, you are still young, aren't you?"

"I'm twelve. I turn thirteen this June."

"This is just a bustling time for you. You're young and just want to do everything the world has the offer. But do one thing for me, son. Just try to contain yourself every now and then."

"Sir, yes, sir!"

Maurice went back to looking at the jars in his underwear again. He turned to the doctor. "How many cotton balls do you suppose you could squeeze into that jar?"

**X x X**

Henry proudly walked into the doctor's office, knowing that he felt perfectly fine and the doctor would be proud of his good health. He always took expert care of himself. He washed his face, brushed his teeth twice daily, combed his hair, bathed, trimmed his fingernails, and ate right. Upon entering the checkup room, both the doctor and the nurse noticed. The complimented him on his excellent hygiene. and he was right - not a single thing wrong with him. On the way out, he got the reward he'd been waiting for for weeks now. They offered him a free lollipop for his good behavior. As he stepped out of the office, one hand in his mummy's the other curled around the stick of the lemon-flavored candy, he skipped a bit in pride.

**X x X**

Jack felt confident about his visit as well. Much unlike his friend Maurice, he entered the building calmly and acted very independent from his mother (who had to bring him anyway, but lovingly and admiringly smiled at him) and his father (who worked as another doctor there at the office, and told all of his associates that that wonderful redheaded young boy right there was his son) and even remained calm when they told him he'd need to have two immunizations that visit. He did prove to have excellent weight and outstanding height for his age, but what the doctor said when they got into the checkup room came as a surprise to him. "Alright, Mr. Merridew. You're going to be fourteen years old in a few weeks now. You're practically a man." the doctor said with a chuckle. "I think this is the ideal time to give you 'the talk'. You're old enough, you're mature enough, and you've already got a girlfriend. I'm just going to tell you about the changes your body is getting ready to go through."

For being so confident walking in, Jack sure did feel unsure about himself now.

He was excited, confused, and a little nervous about his future self, but he put it out of his mind as best he could and decided to only deal with growing up one day at a time. The next thing he had to worry about was the impending immunization. The nurse walked in carrying a tray of two already prepared needles. As the doctor wrote on his pieces of paper, the woman rubbed some alcohol on Jack's arm. She pinched the skin up a bit and stuck the needle straight through his flesh. Jack held in the wince to look tough. As she cleaned the puncture and put a bandage over it, she asked, "There, did that hurt, love?" Jack shook his head. "Of course not. I'm ready for the second one." he replied bravely. The next one hurt worse than the first shot because he was expecting it and he'd accidentally tensed his muscles. He didn't show the pain though.

When he got home, Jessica asked how the doctor visit went. Jack pulled her onto his lap. "They said I'm growing up fast. I'm practically a man now," he repeated the doctor's words. She was thrilled. "My Jackie is a big man!" she giggled. He smiled. "And look - I got battle scars." he told her as he bared his upper arm. When she saw the bandages, she was amazed. "Wow, Jackie. Did they hurt?"

"Not at all. I was just too strong for them to hurt. Didn't cause me a bit of pain."

"Did you cry?"

"Of course I didn't cry! I'm Jack Merridew - they even called me Mr. Merridew because I'm grown-up and tough."

"My Jackie is so brave."

Jack hugged her. Of course he was nervous. Of course it hurt. Of course he felt like crying. But to little Jessica, he was her hero. And since none of the heroes in his Captain America or Superman comic books ever appeared weak, he _would_ not (and _could_ not) appear weak to her. However, when he did hear about Maurice's incidents at the doctor's office from his father, he gave him yet another stern talking-to which he titled "putting-on-a-brave-face-and-dealing-with-it".


	25. Swimming Pool

**Here's a request from ****_Just Your Average Writer Here_****. Thank you very much for this brilliant idea! I hope you all like it!**

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The boys bounced with excitement together. The dreary London weather had finally cleared up enough to allow sunshine to break through the clouds and blue skies to open up heavenly. Today was the day they were all going to visit the community swimming pool. As they all walked (Jack had tried to keep them in lines, but since their robes were left home, they had no means of esteemed identification), they chattered and whooped and skipped. Some had never been to this pool yet - it had opened up a few months back after being renovated for what felt like to them an eternity. Jack carried a cooler of water and fruit that they'd dig into whenever they were ready for a snack. As soon as they got near, all of the boys hopped up and rushed towards the water, leaving Jack, Simon, and Roger in the dust. Jack grumbled in frustration. He'd meant to tell them to act civilized and not bother the other pool-goers around them. Too late. Many were already diving into the water noisily and with little grace.

Simon knew Roger was a bit uneasy about going to the pool. His marks from the attack were still fresh enough to notice. His head still needed to be bandaged. He had to be so careful. Naturally, the small boy promised to stay with his foster brother at all times to protect him from any harm. Simon and Roger helped Jack choose a table on the pool deck to rest all the towels and the cooler. The three removed their shirts and were left standing in their bathing shorts. Jack shook his head. "They're absolute animals." he muttered. The brothers followed his gaze to the now turbulent water from all of the choir's stirring and jumping and diving. Simon giggled. He led Roger over to the steps of the pool.

Jack followed along with them, simply because he'd promised Roger they'd be a team. The dark-haired boy hung onto the railing with one hand, and Simon's shoulder with the other. Jack waded down a few steps and stood in front of him to catch him if he lost balance on his limp-leg. Maurice swam by on his back. He waved at the three. "Come on in, slowpokes!" he shouted. Roger was in about mid-shin. "Go ahead," he murmured to his brother. "You can go swim," Simon smiled. "Are you going to be alright? I don't mind going in slowly with you. Honestly."  
"I'll be fine,"  
"I have an idea. Let's jump in. From this step right here into the shallow end. Want to?"

Roger eyed it. He nodded. "You go first." he said. Simon squeezed his hand before dropping it. He crouched down, then leapt forward into the water, laughing loudly at the fun. Jack ducked down beneath the cool water. "Come on, Roge! It's nice!" he called. Roger clung to the railing, afraid of getting hurt. Afraid of the water. Jack swam over. "Here," he said as he stood up tall in the shallow end. "Jump in. I'll catch you so your head doesn't go under." Roger looked at the redhead, studying his strong arms as they outstretched to him. "Don't be afraid," Jack reminded. "I've got you." Roger drew a deep breath. This would be the moment of truth - could Jack be trusted, or not? Roger released his anaconda grip from the railing. He bent his knees a bit…

And he jumped forward right into Jack's arms.

Jack laughed and Simon cheered. Roger panicked. He scrambled up the redhead's sinewy body, clinging to his shoulders in desperation to just be held above water. Jack hugged him. "Roger, Roger!" he cried as his laughter settled down. "What's the matter? Why are you so spooked?"

"I…I-I…I'm not a strong swimmer…alright, I can't swim. Well I mean…I can stay afloat for a short time, but then I get scared because what if I drown and I can't get back up so I stop breathing and I just die right there without saying bye to anyone -"

"Roger, hey, Roge. Calm down. I'm not going to let you drown. Remember what I said? Nothing's going to happen to you while I'm around. If you want to stay in the shallow end, I'll stay with you. If you want someone to carry you through the water, I'll carry you. It's not a trouble."

Roger smiled. Jack grinned back. He could see the small holes along a gash that was healing right on the boy's cheek - where the stitches had been. Simon dove under the water. "Ah, it feels so good!" he commented. Both boys agreed.

Maurice and Bill got into a splashing war. Their fight was about to go a step farther when Bill found two abandoned foam noodles. They started a sword fight and beaned each other over the head with them, that is, until Maurice accidentally thwacked Henry and got the threat that he was going to tell on him.

Robert dared Harold to go swim to the deepest part of the pool. Harold looked at him with wide, yet excited eyes. "No! It's two meters deep there! I don't want to sink to the bottom!" he cried.  
"If you're constantly swimming forward you won't. Unless you're a fatty." Robert teased, giggling.  
"Am not a fatty!"  
"Prove it!"  
"Fine!"

Harold started doing a butterfly kick out towards the far-end pool wall. Robert then realized that if the boy was indeed a proven-wrong fatty and did start sinking out there, he'd need someone to save him. Hesitantly, Robert began swimming after him.

With a triumphant cry of victory, Harold slammed his hand onto the wall of the six-foot end. Robert was struggling to keep up. When Harold blinked all the water out of his eyes and could see clearly, he started laughing at his friend. "Fatty!" he called. "Look who's the fatty now!" Robert began to laugh too, which made it even more difficult to swim forward. The two ended up spouting water from their lips like fountains to make the other laugh until they had to cling onto the wall to keep from slipping under.

Once about an hour went by, the boys all decided to get out and have their snack. They crowded around the table Jack had chosen. They tore the top of the cooler off and ravenously searched for food to eat. Henry picked up a big slice of watermelon, holding the rind up to his face to make it look like he had a big green smile, winning laughter from everyone. Maurice gulped down some cherries. Bill and Robert had a bit of an argument over the pineapples chunks, but Bill abandoned the fruit when he saw that there was some slices of cheese and crackers deeper in the cooler. Simon peeled an orange. Harold worked an apple right down to the core. Roger had some cheese and crackers too. Jack ate a banana as he supervised them all to be sure no one choked or fought or anything.

About halfway through the jubilant snack in the warm sunlight, Bill paled. "Uh-oh," he muttered. Maurice pointed at him. "What, are you seasick again?" he teased with a laugh. Bill put a hand on his own pocket. "Oh no…" he said despondently.  
"What's the matter?" asked Jack.  
"I left my house key in my pocket while we went swimming. And it's not in there anymore…"

The boys crept to the edge of the pool and looked in. Sure enough, the shiny copper thing was resting at the very bottom of the six-foot end. Maurice suddenly started laughing uncontrollably. "How's that funny? He'll never get home now!" Henry whined. Maurice pointed at the water and wiped his eyes. "It looks like he's in pretty _deep!_" he hooted.

Bill started to become worried. "Who's going to get it for me? I don't want to go all the way to the bottom! It's two whole meters! That's how tall my daddy is, and he's a giant!" he cried. Maurice controlled his giggling now so everyone would stop looking at him to encourage volunteering. Jack crossed his arms. "It's nobody's fault but yours, therefore you should be the one to retrieve it."  
"But Merridew!"  
"It's only fair. Pay the consequences for your mistakes."  
"I'm scaaaaared!"  
"It's only water!"

"I'll get it,"

Everyone looked around to find the new voice that had piped up. Simon put down the peels of his orange. He stood up. "I'll get it," he repeated. He began walking towards the edge of the pool. Roger touched his arm nervously, afraid to let his brother go in the water alone, nevertheless that deep. "You couldn't do it if you tried, Batty!" Harold said harshly. Roger let out a low growl at him. Maurice nudged his friend as a discrete warning. Simon sat down and swung his feet over the edge. He began to slowly lower himself into the water. After a few moments of adjusting, he took in a deep breath, held his nose, and dove beneath the water.

To Roger, time seemed like forever. Jack watched as Simon swam down lower, lower, lower. He was proud of his friend for the heroic deed, but knew it was just Simon's nature to be so selfless. He felt a strong grip take hold of his arm. "He's dead," Roger whispered anxiously. "He's dead he died all the way at the bottom and he's stuck he can't breathe he's drowning he isn't coming up oh God he died he drowned…" Jack took the sputtering boy by the shoulders and stared into his eyes to get him to remember the new motto: nothing would happen as long as Jack was there. Roger reduced his nervousness to just shaking.

Maurice took on the role of the play-by-play announcer. "He's almost down to the bottom. I'd say about a meter and half deep now. Not too long before he actually touches it. Now he's reaching out for the key. His hands are feeling the bottom all over for it; why doesn't he just open his eyes? He can't find it. Oh, wait…yep he's got it in hand now. Here he comes - he's on his way back up. Five, four, three, two…"

As soon as Maurice got to one, Simon's gasping head popped out of the water. Everyone let out three cheers. He climbed up over the wall of the pool and shook his head, sending water droplets flying. Jack patted his back. "Good job, Simon!" he complimented. Bill grabbed the key, thanking him profusely. Simon was just smiling and saying that it wasn't any trouble. Roger went back to the cooler and took out another orange. He handed it to his brother, feeling complete relief. "Eat it so you don't faint," he said. Simon grinned and put a hand on his shoulder. He knew Roger was only trying to protect him.

The boys went back in and swam for about another hour (this time, checking their pockets to be sure they were emptied). When it was time to go home, they all climbed out and bundled up in their big fluffy towels warmly. Maurice went around rubbing everyone's wet hair to make it stick up and stay that way as it dried. Much to Jack's protest, they all walked home wrapped in their towels. Their swim shorts dripped along the sidewalk as they trekked through the city and anticipated nice hot showers upon coming home.


	26. Team Spirit

**Here's another wonderful suggestion from ****_Just Your Average Writer Here_****! Sorry it's a bit short. But not to worry! There's more on the way! You guys are awesome and the boys send hugs! :)**

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As the classes of boys were guided into the gymnasium that Friday morning, Maurice craned his neck to see if he could find the other choirboys that weren't in his geometry class. Harold pushed down on his shoulders as he stood on his own toes to see over the hyper boy's head. "See anyone yet?" he asked. Maurice replied the negative. The pair continued looking around, almost nervously, with Jack and Roger behind them. Suddenly, the dark-haired boy pointed excitedly. "Simon!" he announced. The three other boys waved their arms to get Simon's attention. The small boy, who was with his algebra class, grinned and ran toward them. He was greeted warmly by his brother. Maurice jumped up and down. "Lookie! Lookie! It's Bill! BILL! WE'RE ALL OVER HERE!" he shouted loudly. Bill didn't hear of course due to the noise of all the children being in one echoing building. "NO YOU BLOODY IDIOT! YOU'RE WALKING THE WRONG WAY! OVER HEEEEEEEEERRRRRRREEEEEE!" He earned a slap over the head from Jack with that one.

The choirboys did eventually congregate. "Aren't you all excited?" Maurice bounced. "We get to play all kinds of sports today! And our teachers have us each assigned to one that fits us the best!"  
"Why are there all those men wearing green shirts standing around?" Henry asked.  
"Those are the people that are going to teach us how to play our sport! They're volunt…voluntee…they're helpers."

The boys marveled at all the different equipment and toys and people that were milling about. Their teachers had handed them a piece of paper with a sport that reflected either their interests or personalities. A voice came over the loudspeaker in the gymnasium, instructing the boys to unfold their pieces of paper and go to their respective sport area.

Maurice tore his open excitedly and without hesitation. He read it aloud. "I got soccer! I got soccer!" he shouted, running in circles around the others. Clearly, this was chosen for him based on his inability to settle down for just one second - he was always moving.

Bill looked down at his paper. "Wow, I got baseball!" he exclaimed. This was chosen for him due to his height and ability to slide across floors (whether it be on purpose or by accident, especially because he tripped so often).

Jack looked down. "Football," he said boastfully. "I guess that's a pretty good match for me," Someone snorted. "Yeah, you're pretty good at knocking people down!" Henry giggled. Jack held his head higher to indicate that he was finished with any conversation anyone would have about the subject.

Roger opened the folded paper. He stayed quiet for a moment, the folded it again so that it looked untouched. Simon nudged him gently. "What'd you get?" he asked. Roger looked down at the ground. "Archery," he muttered, a little embarrassed. Everyone else so far had gotten real contact sports. He knew that he got archery because none of his teachers wanted to put him in the situation where it would be him pinned against someone else, or a circumstance where he could get hurt (or do the hurting).

Simon read his paper off next. "I got golf," he said sweetly. He seemed pretty content with it. Golf was a quiet sport that required a lot of concentration. He didn't mind any of that. Some boys sniggered a little. But Simon remained quiet, because he figured he was going to like this sport.

Harold opened his next. "Look at that! I got baseball too!" Again, due to his height and ability to accurately swing. Henry pointed at the words on his paper. "Aw, I got tennis!" he whined. Bill nudged him. "It's because you're boring." he explained. Some laughed at his serious joke. Robert groaned when he read his paper. "Rugby!" he shouted. "I got rugby! I'll never walk again after today!" He immediately regretted saying it, with Roger around and all. His brother could never walk. And he himself was still in great pain from his injuries. Robert cleared his throat uneasily. "I'll take them all down," he added.

The boys scurried off to their respective sport areas. Simon gave Roger a big hug before they parted, as usual. At the golf station, he met a kindly old man that greeted him and sized him up to a good set of clubs. He and the other boys in his division followed the man outdoors to the playfield so they could practice swinging.

Maurice had no trouble absorbing the rules of soccer. As the young man explained it to the other kids, Maurice put his hand up in the air. "So it's like keep away, without having any arms?" he asked. The man chuckled. "I suppose you could say that," he answered. Maurice and another boy were partnered up to practice kicking a ball back and forth. Ever eager Maurice gave the ball a good solid whack with his foot; so hard that when it connected with the younger boy's shin, he started crying and had to sit on a teacher's lap until he calmed down. Maurice blushed and just continued kicking the ball against a wall that wouldn't cry like a stupid little baby.

Jack was automatically chosen to be the quarterback for the small football teams they'd created. He was naturally good at the sport. His muscular frame and quick agility made him perform at an experienced level - far more than the other boys. He also got quite the thrill from knocking into the others purposefully, just to see them fall due to his control. It was vindicating. He could command, destroy, and then run away from it, leaving it all behind him; yet still earn praise. That - that was good.

Bill…wasn't all that innate. Well, he was in a way…but it was more that he was naturally _bad_ at baseball. Partially due to his declining ability of sight, he never really hit the ball dead-on. Sure, he'd bunt it, or get lucky enough to swing a hit that made it to just before the pitcher's mound, but other than that, he had no stellar performance. He did earn applause however when he stole to second base. And even _that_ had been an accident. He'd bent down to tie his shoelace, but one of the outfielders hollered to the pitcher that he was running. Seeing them come after him with the ball, he got scared and just started running. But, of course, he tripped over his stupid shoelaces and fell flat on the ground. His forehead hit the base. He was counted safe.

Roger was nearly perfect with archery. The man setting up the target paper stopped and examined the one across from Roger. There were three arrows stuck right in the center circle. Three out of four. There simply wasn't enough room inside that small yellow circle for all four quivers, so he had to aim to miss and hit the next outer circle instead. Once the man took his target to replace it, he walked away to get one without holes in it. Roger looked up. He glanced around. "Henry!" he called. "I need another target!" But Henry, practicing a serve swing with his racquet on the nearby tennis court, asked him to repeat because he didn't hear him. Roger grumbled in frustration. "Just come stand over here for a minute!" he shouted. When Henry ignored him, he put a quiver into the bow and pointed it directly at the boy's rump. He pulled back, slowly and steadily as they'd taught him…and…

The man came by again and quickly shoved Roger sideways, causing his release of the arrow to go crooked, flying through the air and sticking into a high tree bough. The instructor stared at the dark-haired boy. Roger couldn't tell if he was shocked that he'd intentionally plotted to shoot a friend, or if he was amazed that Roger had _actually_ shot the arrow knowing that. Either way, Roger was given more targets immediately to keep him from resorting to that last-ditch effort again.

Robert's game of rugby was incredibly difficult. He asked to sit out twice. But both times, they'd told him to stay in the game and really keep trying. They promised he'd like it by the end. However, he hated it - beginning, middle, and finish. One kid accidentally knocked him in the stomach when he was in mid-grab for the ball. Robert had the wind knocked out of his lungs. He crouched on the grass, gasping and heaving, attracting the attention of the nearby coaches. He threw up from the intense impact. The supervisors realized that maybe he had had enough and let him sit out for the rest of that game. The kid came over and apologized to Robert profusely; Robert only thanked him with that much earnest in return.

The sports day overall went well for the boys. Henry realized that there was more to tennis than just being "boring", Roger found a hidden talent, Jack made himself known as an even bigger multi-talented star, Robert learned that the body had several impact-reflexes, Simon found that he enjoyed being by himself in quiet nature, Bill realized his clumsiness wasn't always a hindrance, and Maurice found out that trying to make a person that's a door into a window would only result in a lecture from a teacher that a game "isn't the bloody World Cup". Some of the boys even found their sport to be something to take interest in down the road, such as Jack and Roger. Others decided they could keep looking for hobbies too. But all in all, nobody left without a smile on their face. It was a successful day for the "team" of choirboys.


	27. Love and Marriage

**This is part of a request from _Just Your Average Writer Here_. Sorry about the length, but I really hope you feel good about this one. I've been getting so many requests lately and I absolutely love that! Thank you all so much. I will do them all, however I have to make sure they fit into the story lines and everything. So don't give up on me if you aren't seeing your ideas come up right away! I _promise_ I'll do them and give you the well-deserved credit. Seriously, guys, thank you so much. your ideas are ALL awesome and I love them and I love your enthusiasm. Thank you again, and enjoy.**

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The choir stood in front of a whole church full of people. It was a very warm afternoon - and the inside of the small chapel-like building was crowded. The boys were singing at a wedding for one of their schoolteachers. The young trigonometry teacher Mr. Hays (whom none of the boys knew personally) requested that they sang during the ceremony with their beautiful little voices. They were all presently nervous. Most of the audience was older folks, but nearly the whole faculty of their school happened to be attending. They recognized the teachers they knew almost immediately. Jack held his hands up to cue their first song for the opening.

Simon was in absolute heaven. He loved singing so much, then whenever he had to take a breath it was equally as wonderful because the air smelled of lilies from all the bouquets filling the alter. Everyone in the beautiful house of God was smiling. There was just perfect happiness. He was with his friends and teachers. The groom looked amazingly blissful. And when the bride walked out…oh, Simon felt he might just explode with happiness.

She was gorgeous - her hair was perfectly curled and pulled back a bit, her face was absolutely flawless, she held a beautiful flower arrangement, her dress was flowing and princess-like. Simon felt himself gasp when she came into his view. The couple joined each other at the alter. As they said their vows, Jack had the choir take a seat in one long row that had been previously reserved for them. Roger watched the ceremony so intensely close. He didn't want to miss a second of it. He didn't even respond when Jack told him to move down a little, leaving the redhead no choice but to physically give his tiny frame a gentle slide down the row a few inches.

Everyone applauded when the newlyweds shared their first kiss in matrimony. Bill jumped up and cheered. Jack immediately yanked his arm to pull him back down. Maurice was sniffling and rubbing his eyes. Robert leaned over. "What's your problem? You're the only one in this whole church that's crying!"  
"I wish…I wish she would've been my bride someday!"  
"Maurice, you're only twelve…"  
"She could've waited for me! Oh, if only we'd known each other sooner…! Now he took her away from me!"  
"You're so overdramatic,"  
"I'm compelled by my emotions! You don't understand!"

The boys had also been invited to the reception after the ceremony. It was being held at a fancy nearby hotel in the ballroom. As people began to enter, they found their places at their respective tables. There was a children's table especially for the choirboys. "Look!" Henry pointed out. "We all have special seats! See? These little card things have our names on them!" They all murmured excitedly about this, feeling very important and adult-like. Everyone took their seats around the circular table. Some servers came out shortly after and put plates in front of everyone. All of the adults were talking and clinking their silverware. "Let's pretend we're grownups," Harold suggested, ever-imaginative. Some caught on and played his game, but eventually they just broke out laughing. The kids ate fried chicken fingers with mashed potatoes and peas; the adults had more sophisticated food, such as salmon, beef, or lamb. However, the young ones took no notice to this, and simply enjoyed their time at the reception.

Music began playing, and some adults went to the ballroom floor to dance. Maurice pointed at the towering white cake decorated with red flower accents over in the corner of the room. "Do we get some of that?" he asked. Jack followed his finger. "That's the wedding cake. They'll cut it later; the bride and groom, that is. They feed each other a bite, then everyone gets a slice." he explained as best he knew. For being Jack Merridew and all, when it came to weddings, he didn't know too much.  
"So we eat the cake,"  
"Yes, that's right."  
"Do we feed each other too?"  
"No, that's just the bride and groom, for heaven's sakes!"  
"Oh…thank God. I wouldn't want Bill anywhere near my face with a fork in his hand."

An announcer welcomed in the bride and the groom, causing everyone to cheer and clap. Maurice started crying again upon seeing his dream-bride. Robert laughed again at his friend's absolute ridiculousness. Harold shushed everyone as the bride and groom took the center of the ballroom floor, the lights dimming, and danced together in slow movements. Everyone was watching as the beautiful couple turned and swayed and whispered loving things to each other. Simon's heart melted. "This is so wonderful…" he whispered. Jack patted his shoulder. He felt the same way, but didn't want to show his sentimentality in front of the boys. Especially since his quiet parting with Mary-Sue. The two hadn't spoken for a few weeks now, and his heart ached every day. He didn't want to end it, but listening to his friend's advice and letting her go seemed like the right thing to do. Nevertheless, he became swallowed up in his own dreams about his wedding, and just who the bride would be.

Roger squirmed a little in his chair as everyone watched the couple. Bill noticed. He was tempted to just not say anything and leave the little stress-ball alone like Jack had suggested they all do, but something didn't feel right. Roger was looking at the floor, blinking his eyes repeatedly. They were sparkling. But…with tears. Bill brushed his fingers against the boy's clean white dress-shirt. Roger sniffled and looked forward. "You alright?" Bill asked softly. The small boy shrugged. "Tell me what's wrong, Roger. It's alright. I'm here to…listen." Bill encouraged him, choosing his words carefully.

"Do you…hm…never mind."

"What? You can tell me. Go ahead. Say what's on your mind."

"Well…just don't laugh at me, alright?"

"Of course not."

"…Do you think I'll ever get married?"

Bill cocked his head. It was a strange question, especially coming from a certain dark-haired boy that didn't show much affection towards anyone. When Roger moved his big gray eyes to look into the blue ones, Bill realized just how troubled and perplexed he was about this particular subject. He smiled gently. All he wanted to do was make Roger feel better and stop looking at him _so heartbrokenly_. "Of course you will, Roger. You'll have a stunning bride. She'll be beautiful all three-hundred-sixty-five days of the year. You two will get married and you'll dance just like they are right now, and then you'll have a cute little cottage together like my nana has in Camberly. She'll have lots of wonderful children with you, and you'll be such a good father. You'll have the best little family and Simon will visit you with his family often. You and your wife will grow old together and stay happy forever because neither of you will leave the other behind. I know it, Roger. I just know it."

Roger thought everything over, seemingly at peace. Then he turned back to face forward again. "I just don't know of anyone that could love a monster." he whispered. Bill felt chilled to the bone. He nudged his friend Robert to help him out. After whispering the details of their conversation, Robert went around and sat on the other side of Roger. "Hey," he said softly, gently rubbing the small boy's arm. "Don't talk like that. How could a woman not love you? Besides, you're still young. You've got a few more years until you can even get married. She'll come along, I promise. She's out there."

"She'll leave me after a few years…"

"No, Roger. She wouldn't do that. People who love you with all of their hearts don't just abandon you."

"…No…"

"No what?"

"…I just don't find it possible."

"Look out there," Bill added. "See how happy the bride and groom are? That's how it feels every day when you're married, or at least from what Mummy and Daddy tell me. And they've been married for thirteen years! Even when you're just in love, every day is new and full of happiness. Because you know you have someone that understands you to the fullest extent."

Roger stayed quiet. Robert leaned in and gave his shoulders a small embrace. "She'll understand you. She'll take good care of you. Forever." he murmured. Bill joined the hug. Roger put his hands over theirs as a way of showing that affection for their concern. "She's out there somewhere," Bill whispered again. Roger dried his tears, feeling a little better with their support and certainty of his future love-life. He enjoyed their comfort.

More people joined the bride and groom after the special dance. Upbeat music began to play, causing laughter and many smiles as people twirled and swung around on the ballroom floor. The boys decided to get up and dance too. They mostly stuck together on the dance floor, giggling and moving with the utmost gleefulness. That is, until a shrill shriek pierced the joyful atmosphere.

Maurice nearly fainted.

Wildly waving her arms and calling his name, Myrtle flew past people on the ballroom floor to jump straight onto the now terrified boy. She swung around him as she giddily squealed. The choir tried to contain their emerging grins. Maurice covered his face with his hands. "What…in God's name…are you doing here…" he muttered through his fingers. Myrtle flipped her bouncily curled hair. "I've been telling you for weeks now - my auntie is getting married! She's the bride over there in the white dress! Isn't she beautiful? Why didn't you tell me that we were going to be at the same wedding?"

"I tend to tune you out!"

"Oh, Maurice, just think - the next wedding we'll be at together will be our own."

Maurice nearly passed out again. That, or punch himself in the face. Some of the boys giggled from around him. Myrtle swung back and forth childishly, blushing all the time. She wore a poofy pink dress that cut off right above her knees. He little white socks were frilled, and at the beginning of each blonde ponytail was a small pink bow. She grabbed his hand and hurried him out to the center of the ballroom floor with her. In a last-ditch attempt at rescue, Maurice outstretched his free hand to his friends dramatically as he was yanked. Just to get on his nerves, Harold gave him a small wave and broke into tremendous laughter.

The cutting of the wedding cake came next. All of the boys were eager to get a slice. The bride and groom did exactly as Jack had said (to which he heaved a silent sigh of relief) and accepted their applause. As the boys sat at their table to eat their cake - well, everyone except Maurice, who was still under Myrtle's capture - , they talked about the ceremony and the reception and just weddings in general. Henry ate his wedding cake at a nearly inhuman speed; he even boldly went up for seconds. As Jack watched the happy couple, he couldn't help but feel his heart ache a little. He realized that he missed Mary-Sue, and the thing that made it worse was that she didn't seem to miss him due to her lack of persistence after their parting. He wondered if he'd ever talk to her again. While lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice Henry go up for thirds.

Simon put down his fork and whispered to Roger that he'd be back in a moment. He climbed off his chair and made his way through the crowds of people, and Henry returning from his fourth trip up to the cake line. He was looking for the bride - the new Mrs. Hays. When he finally found her after several minutes of intense searching, he stood in front of her and cleared his throat. "Er, excuse me ma'am?"

The sparkling bride turned to look at who addressed her. When she saw it was only a small child, she seemed a little surprised. Nevertheless, she bent down and listened to him. "I just wanted to say that this was a wonderful wedding. Well, what I mean is, you look absolutely stunning and happy. And I'm glad for that. I'd also like to thank you for allowing the St. Peter's Catholic School for Boys choir enjoy the ceremony and this fun reception. So…I'm sorry, I just have a lot I want to say to you but I can't quite place the words. I guess in summary, just thank you, congratulations, and you look like a princess." Simon said, a little nervous. The woman put a hand over her heart as the bridesmaids around her let out a simultaneous "Awwww!"

She knelt down and pulled Simon into a big hug. "You're most certainly welcome, my dear. I'm so glad you could come. And thank you for the wonderful compliments. You're very sweet. Do you have a girl that you love very much?" she asked him. Simon smiled.

"I do, actually. Her name is Lucy. We met at the library."

"Well, why don't you bring these to her. I'm sure you're a very good lover. I think she'll like them." The bride pulled two stems from the bouquet she was still holding. Right on top of the stems were two beautiful white roses.

"Oh, ma'am. Thank you so much. She'll love these very much. They're absolutely perfect! Oh, by the way, my friend Maurice - you probably already know him because Jack says that 'everyone can tell who he is since he never shuts his mouth' - thinks you look even more than amazing. He said that he wished he could marry you too. We all think you're a wonderful lady, ma'am."

"Oh…which boy is he?"

"He's the one over there with your niece, I believe. She's in the pink dress. Myrtle,"

"Ah, I see him. Let me go talk to the musicians for a moment,"

She went off to the music director and spoke with them for a brief moment, often looking over her shoulder and smiling. The announcer came back out and said that they were going to do a couples dance. Simon watched as the beautiful bride tapped Maurice's shoulder and curtsied. She winked at Myrtle, who giggled and danced with herself as her aunt took Maurice's hands. She put her feet beneath his toes and told him to stand up tall. Then, she began dancing with her own feet, and since Maurice's were resting on top, it looked like he was paralleling her movements precisely. He was about melting with happiness as she smiled at him. Her new husband was laughing and applauding her, telling everyone around him that _that_ was why he loved his woman.

Roger sat at the table with Jack when the other boys got up to do the couples dance. Jokingly, they danced with each other, laughing hysterically during a rather tender moment for everyone else. Robert and Henry were partners, Bill and Harold dramatically held onto each other, tears running down their beet-red faces from laughing so hard. Jack and Roger, however, were not quite as jubilant. The redhead sighed. "I miss her," he whispered to his close friend. Roger looked down at the tablecloth. "Me too." he breathed. Jack turned to look at him questioningly, so Roger further explained. "I miss her and I haven't even met her yet,"

"You will, Roge. You've got lots of time."

"So do you,"

"Yes, but it's moments like these that really feel like my heart is just reaching, _reaching_ out towards her, begging for her to come back. _Come back_. But she doesn't."

Roger rubbed his friend's wrist comfortingly. He looked at the next table over. A little girl, about the age of nine, was sitting with her mother, crying because she had no one to dance with. He nudged Jack and pointed to her. "Go for it," he whispered. Jack chuckled and shook his head. "She's a little too young for me, Roge. And I think I'll just need time before even thinking about all that stuff again. But you…" He tickled Roger's sides, making him giggle. "could 'go for it'." Roger eyed the situation for a moment, then stood up. He went to the little girl and took her hand. Very slowly, very gently, he danced with her. Her tears vaporized almost immediately. He didn't smile a lot, nor did he speak, but somehow they both felt a bit better about things.

The bride let Maurice go (Myrtle snatched him right back up within an instant) and went to dance with her groom. Myrtle squeezed Maurice into a big hug. He groaned and pretended to be winded, using it as an excuse to not dance with her. "_Pleeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaassssssssseeeeeeee?_" Myrtle whined with puppy-dog eyes. Maurice sighed heavily. "Ugh. Alright. Fine. Just the last part of this song, and then I don't want to see you for the rest of the night. Ok?" But that was all she needed to hear before giggling with delight and swooping him out onto the dance floor again.

By the time the reception was winding down several hours later, Jack rounded up his choir to start taking them home. It was well past everyone's bedtimes. He did a quick headcount as they were about to leave their table and realized there were only thirteen boys instead of fourteen. He looked around. He didn't hear Maurice. "Where on earth is that weasel?!" he hissed as he began walking around the room in search of his lost lamb.

He wasn't expecting to see what he saw.

Maurice was out on the dance floor, gently swaying back and forth on his feet…with Myrtle still in his arms. He actually had his head resting near hers and it seemed he was softly singing along to the music. She looked even more content. Jack let them finish out the song. When Maurice looked up and saw Jack, he turned four shades of red and told Myrtle he had to go. He scrambled to fix himself up and hurry to Jack, but just before leaving her there on the dance floor…he turned around and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. Immediately after, he literally ran away from the little pink cupcake.

All Jack had to hear as he quickly followed his embarrassed friend to the others was Myrtle's squeal of absolute delight to know that Maurice had either let go of his abrasion to her or completely lost his mind.

Jack caught his arm as they hurried. "Well, well." he said, raising an eyebrow. Maurice shook his head. "I'm delirious I tell you. Sleep deprived. Yeah, that's it. I'm tired and delirious. I don't even know what my mind is thinking. Like, two plus two is five. And 'dog' is spelled c-a-t. And my name is Percy. See? I've lost it. I don't even know what I'm doing." he spit out quickly, trying to cover his embarrassment of revealing his true feelings. Jack kept his one eyebrow raised. "Mmm-hmm," he replied sarcastically, knowing full-well Maurice's true intentions (and mental state).

On the way home, Maurice kept rambling off more obviously wrong facts just to "prove" to everyone that he wasn't stable to know what he was doing. Henry put his hands on his stomach. "Oh, Jack…" he muttered. Harold pointed at him. "Hey look! He's seasick!" he shouted, causing everyone to laugh. Even Bill, who playfully shoved the joker in embarrassment. Henry shook his head. "No…I think I ate too much." he replied.

"You had the same thing we did, and all of us are fine." Robert pointed out.

"And two rounds of cake." Harold reminded.

"No, he had three rounds. I saw him go back up another time." Bill said.

"Uh-uh, he passed by me on the way back from his fifth!" Maurice interjected, forgetting his act for a moment. He then covered himself by yelling out, "Who am I?"

"I thought he had five and a half…I saw him finishing my piece that I left behind." Simon piped up.

"No wait…he had six then, because I let him have the rest of mine, and that was another half." Roger claimed.

Jack whirled around to look at Henry. "_Six?!_" he seethed. "You had _six_ pieces of wedding cake?! Henry! I'm ashamed!"

"Why ashamed? I kept it all down!" Henry argued. He let out a wet belch, then winced. "At least for this long…"

"Wedding cake is extremely sugary and rich! The cake is white cake mix and the frosting on the cake was buttercream! Not to mention all those sugar candy flowers that covered it. Bleeding _heck_,Henry - you've probably got one-hundred-million kilograms of sugar in your stomach right now!"

All of the boys laughed at his joke. Henry just moaned and let out another burp. Harold and Robert continued to hold onto each other and dance all the way home in front of the others to elicit even more laughter. Maurice babbled more stupid facts. Simon and Roger talked quietly about Lucy, and what a beautiful bride she'd be someday too. As the others goofed off, Jack noticed they were about to pass Mary-Sue's house. All the thoughts rushed back into his head. He could knock on her door. He could apologize for being so out-of-touch. He could hold her and promise it'd never happen again. He could tell her that he loved her so much. No. He wasn't supposed to be the one to do all that. She was. She'd left, she'd broken contact, she'd gone behind his back to talk about him to his friends. He stood at those steps for a long time, staring at her red door. The lights were on upstairs. He pondered so hard. Suddenly, he felt a small hand slip into his and start pulling him away gently. It was a tiny hand, a bony one. It was Roger's. He shook his dark hair slightly. "Come on, Jack. It'll be alright. Just let it happen by itself," he whispered. Jack sighed and let himself be pulled away.

When he knew Jack and Roger were far enough away, he figured Jack would be busy being consoled by his friend. Simon slipped behind them and laid one of the white roses he'd obtained from the bride right on Mary-Sue's doorstep.


End file.
